Part 2: You Wouldn't Lie To Me
by pjstillnoon
Summary: Squeal to my other story You Don't Lie To Me. Almost direct follow on. This one is all about desperation and hope and doing things to make the one you love happy. What wouldn't Cal do for Gillian? Still AU. Very strong T rating on all chapters. Chapters Updated 03/03/2013
1. Chapter 1

"Cal?"

"Yes darlin'?"

"Remember how when, last month, you asked me..." She trailed off and Cal waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts properly and start again. "When I had the miscarriage. You asked me why I had gone to see my fertility doctor and if I was hoping..."

Cal waited but she didn't say anything else. It had been a month now since the miscarriage and this was the first conversation they'd had about it in several weeks. Cal didn't think she wanted to talk about it anymore. He was surprised she was bringing it up now but glad she felt she could still talk to him about it. He liked talking to her. If he wasn't allowed to read her face he wanted for her to tell him what was going on in her head. Much like she wanted him to do the same.

"Why do we always have these conversations in the dark?" He complained flippantly, knowing full well why. It was so she could have an even playing field.

"So you can't read too much into them," Gillian responded lightly. She sounded amused.

"Are you askin' me if I want to try for a baby afta all?"

Gillian paused for a second before answering him. "I don't really know what I'm asking. I just know I think about it all the time."

"I know you do sweetheart," Cal said gently. He trailed his hand down her arm to lace his fingers in hers. She gave his hand a tight squeeze. The truth was, he had been thinking about it too. When they made love... and they were so wrapped up in each other, and he came inside her, he couldn't help but think of the possibilities.

"I'm not asking you to make a sudden decision. I'm not even sure that I'm asking you. I just think I need to talk about it."

And Cal was flattered that she was talking to him. She could have gone to Casey, friend and psychologist extraordinaire. He had come to realise that talking was very important for Gillian. "All right then, let's talk about it," Cal agreed. "I think it's a cruel joke that you haven't been able to be a mutha."

"Hmm," Gillian responded. "I feel like my time is up but I just can't let it go."

"I don't think you _should_ let it go," Cal said firmly. He had spent time thinking about this too, the possibilities; their options. Except he didn't know how to broach the subject, so he didn't bring it up first. It was a very, very delicate situation.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think we should give IVF a go or try adoption again." Cal took the plunge. He knew they were just 'talking' but he couldn't stop himself from being enthusiastic.

"We?"

"You didn't expect me to bail on you again did you? Not now that we're married. Not afta the last time."

"No," Gillian answered honestly. "But I wondered how enthusiastic you would be about it. You made your position pretty clear last time."

Cal suppressed a squirm of uncomfortableness. If he regretted just one thing in his entire life...

"Not trying to accuse you, just trying to talk," Gillian's quiet voice came again from her pillow.

"I know. But I still feel shit that I did that to you."

"Cal," Gillian's voice held a warning.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Cal interrupted. "We're not goin' ova it again."

"Thank you."

"I know I said I'd raised my family and now with Em in Boston that's even true-a. But darlin', when you're so in love with someone like I am with you, and you make love with someone like we do, I can't help but think about what we could create togetha; a baby, anotha person out of pure love. That's somethin' magical."

Gillian was silent for a long time and Cal fought the urge to turn the light on. She held his hand tightly beneath the covers. Her words were emotional when they came through the darkness again. "You really feel that way?"

"Yeah I do."

"Do you _want_ to try for a baby?" She sounded hopeful but mostly cautious, as if she wasn't quite sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"I think we should definitely look in to it."

"Are you hedging?"

"Nah. I'm tryin' to be practical. There are certainly fertility issues..."

"You mean me," Gillian cut in.

"I don't know what IVF entails exactly. Hormone injects and embryo implants. But I don't know what that means specifically to your issues or how I would fit in to that. And then, I guess, we do have to consida time."

"It's against us," Gillian noted evenly.

Cal smiled in the dark. "Well, it's definitely countin' down. I can undastand how your biological clock must be loud in your ear."

"You know there are age limits on IVF."

"As far as I see it you can get pregnant until you hit menopause. And you're several good years away from that."

"The doctor's," Gillian clarified, sounding amused again. "They have rules."

"So we find a docta who's willin' to bend the rules."

"That sounds right up your alley."

Cal grinned in the dark. "Or there's adoption," Cal tried again. He wanted to build her excitement up to his level, to try and instil some hope. He didn't like how dejected her voice sounded. He was serious about this. It felt like a good idea. And she wasn't saying no. She wasn't talking him down from the ledge. "We can do it togetha; might increase our chances."

"Not when you're in your late forties and I'm in my mid forties and there are nice young couples in their twenties with their whole lives to offer."

Finally, the rest of the reason why the adoption agency had said 'no' to her. It wasn't just that she was too old by their standards. It was that she was older than most eligible couples and _single_.

Cal wasn't sure he had a response to that so left the comment hanging. How was he going to argue against that? "So that means IVF is our only option."

"Has this conversation suddenly become serious?" She sounded unsure. At least a conversation in the dark was a good exercise in trying to read tone of voice. Cal thought he detected a hint of hope in there too.

"As serious as you want it to be."

"Really?"

"Yeah really."

Gillian's fingers tightened against his. "Cal."

"I mean it Gill. You can take this as serious as you want to. You want to, I'm there. You don't want to, I'm ok with that too."

She didn't answer, but her fingers still had a death grip on his hand.

"Tell me what's involved," Cal prompted gently. "With IVF. Tell me what went wrong with Alec. How far did you two actually get?" He had known she was trying for a baby at the time but he had never known the details. Not even after years and years of trying. That was the one thing she had never elaborated on: her marriage with Alec. He had tried to piece things together, pressed her because he had been curious and nosey; not just because it was his nature but because she had remained silent on the subject. Gillian was certainly a loyal person.

Cal felt her shift on the mattress next to him. She gave a small sigh. "We did a cycle."

"Just one?"

"We didn't have a lot of money. I still had student loans and Alec was just starting to build his career. And so was I. We had just bought a house..."

"So what happened?" Cal prompted hoping she would tell him everything.

"It didn't work obviously."

Cal wasn't sure if he should laugh or not. Her tone was very matter-of-fact. Again, he resisted the urge to turn the lamp on. "Did you get pregnant?"

"No."

"The embryo's didn't implant?"

"No." A pause. "I thought you didn't know anything about it?"

"I might not know all the details, but I know how babies are made."

Another pause. "That was it."

"So you went from that to adoption?"

"Years later," Gillian clarified. Then she seemed to change the subject. "Alec didn't like that it was so invasive anyway."

"What's he on about?" Cal asked confused. "It wasn't like they were stickin' him with needles." Cal hated how selfish Alec came across. Alec didn't like the invasive nature of IVF. He had to jack off in to a plastic cup and he found that invasive? When Gillian probably had all kinds of procedures to deal with. They had adopted a baby girl, the mother changed her mind and he didn't want to talk about it? Ever. Then, instead of working through his problems with his amazing wife, he had taken up his cocaine habit and pushed her even further away. What was wrong with the guy? What was wrong with Cal? He had been just as selfish, telling her he couldn't have another family. Cal hated to think of himself somewhere in the same league as Alec.

"No," Gillian agreed. "They weren't sticking him with needles."

However, this wasn't about getting one up on Alec. This was about Gillian and Cal and _their_ lives. But if Cal ever saw Alec again he was going to shake his hand and thank him for screwing up because now Cal had Gillian and he didn't plan on ever letting her go.

"So?" Cal asked next.

"So what?"

"Don't play dumb," Cal told her gently. "You know what I'm askin'. Do you wanna try?"

"I'm scared to say it aloud."

"In case?"

Gillian took a deep breath. "In case I get my hopes up again and they get shattered again." She paused. "I don't know if I can deal with that _again_. Every time takes a little bit out of me forever." Now she sounded like she was close to tears.

"I know," Cal said softly. "Let me be the one who gets excited. I'll have all the hope and enthusiasm."

"Really?" Gillian's voice was thick with dubiousness. "Cal Lightman, giving up on a pessimism you've spent years perfecting?"

"I'm not a pessimist," Cal feigned shock and offence.

"You're not an optimist."

"Nah. That would be you."

"Hhm," Gillian agreed. "Hard to be optimistic when I've been constantly beaten down."

Cal suddenly pulled her roughly into a hug. He didn't like it when she was sad or low. It was hard to tell which. She just seemed bummed out. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to be able to give her a baby. But he also knew she was right, one more failure and it just might break her for good. He just hoped she had more strength in her reserves than they both knew. He couldn't put her through it again if he didn't think she could come out the other side unscathed.

Gillian pressed her face into his neck and her body along the length of his. "At least I could say I really did exhaust all options."

Her words were slightly muffled but Cal heard her very clearly. And he heard an optimism in her voice that made his heart cheer.

"I do want to try Cal."

**PJ**

Cal kissed along his wife's neck, tracing his teeth and his tongue over her hot skin. He could feel her hands on him, fingertips digging into his waist as he worked. He could hear her ragged breath, feel her chest rising and falling quickly with desire. He could feel everything she did because their bodies were pressed so close together. The pressure of her hips against his was so tantalising. Cal had his hands in all kinds of places on her body. On her throat, down her arms, over her breasts, her waist, her hips, her thighs... But then... something wasn't quite right. She wasn't kissing him back. He suddenly couldn't remember her kissing him at all, let alone being able to pinpoint the moment when she had stopped. Cal felt for his wedding ring and found it was gone! That wasn't right. This wasn't right! He pulled back but couldn't see her face. He pulled back some more. He felt his right hand twitch against the mattress. Then he was aware of traffic on the street, the loud engine of a motorbike ratcheting up through gears quickly, and the grey of dawn. He woke up completely, surprised that he had been dreaming. It had felt so real. That was definitely a dream he had wanted to finish.

Cal stretched out with his right hand, feeling for Gillian in the bed next to him. He encountered nothing but cold sheets. He pried his eyes open, simultaneously identifying the time and the empty mattress. Cold sheets meant she had been gone for a while. Six thirty am meant she must not have slept well. Cal slipped out of his side of the bed. The house seemed cold. He reached for a t-shirt on his way out of their bedroom. The errant motorbike that had woken him had left a vacuum of silence in its wake. It was eerily quiet now. Cal scuffed into the kitchen, found Gillian sitting at the window. She had a knee tucked up against her chest and she rested her chin on hands folded on top of it. There was an empty coffee mug on the floor next to her other foot. She was watching the back yard intently. Her hair was ruffled from the pillow and she was dressed in one of Cal's t-shirts and her own pyjama bottoms. They were pink with medium sized green frogs.

"Hey," Cal greeted from next to the refrigerator. She gave him a smile as he passed by the breakfast island, straightening up. "What are you doin' luv?"

"Just thinking," she answered lightly.

Cal sat in front of her on the same seat. He could feel her cold foot almost immediately through the material of his boxer briefs and was grateful it wasn't his bare skin. "Couldn't sleep?"

She shook her head slightly.

"Hard to sleep when you've had caffeine," Cal pointed out. He took her icy foot and held it between his warm hands even though it was almost painful.

"Mm," Gillian hummed her appreciation. She shifted to place her other foot under his butt. Within seconds Cal could feel that one too.

"Wear socks woman, you're freezin'," Cal reached out to place a hand on her arm. The skin there was also chilled. Cal rubbed her arm. "Why can't you sleep?"

"Thinking," Gillian repeated.

"About the IVF?" Cal guessed easily.

Gillian nodded. But Cal wasn't quite sure what to say about that. They were still waiting to go in and take the blood test that would confirm or deny a pregnancy. It might have worked. But it might not have. And it was too soon to tell. He tried not to think about it. He knew he would have a harder time trying to convince her of doing the same. So he remained silent and knew she could probably guess why he said nothing.

"Why are you up so early?" Gillian asked him softly.

"Noticed you were gone."

"Needed me for something in particular?" Gillian gestured vaguely at his groin.

Cal didn't need to glance down to know what she was talking about. He gave her his best cheeky grin. "Was havin' the best dream."

Gillian tried to hide her smile. "Who was in it?"

"Me, obviously."

"And?" Gillian prompted quickly. "Who do you dream about Cal?"

"You, darlin', I dream about you."

"You wouldn't lie to me would you?" She asked innocently.

Cal flashed more teeth. "Absolutely not. You're the woman of all my dreams. Featured heavily in the one this mornin'. Was hopin' you'd help me finish it when I woke up."

Gillian's hidden smile forced its way across her face. Even in the grey light Cal could see her eyes flash in amusement. "What happened?"

"Somethin' woke me up. Bloody rude."

Gillian's smile spread in to a grin. She leaned forward. "Maybe we could pick up where your dream left off then."

Cal smiled as he leaned in to her kiss. Her icy fingers on his neck made him shoot back quickly though. "Right that's it," Cal got up abruptly, dropping her foot. He ignored her surprised expression and took her wrist, pulling her to her feet.

"Hey!" Gillian protested.

"Hot showa for you," Cal pushed her gently back across the kitchen, through the bedroom and to the master bath.

"I thought you were going to tell me about your dream," Gillian pouted at him as he turned the shower on.

Cal pointed a finger at her. "Strip," he demanded. Gillian reached under the t-shirt she was wearing for the elastic of her pyjama trousers. Cal pushed the bathroom door shut and then whipped his own t-shirt off.

"I thought_ I_ was supposed to be warming up," Gillian reminded him.

Cal crossed the space between them quickly. "More than one way to warm you up darlin'," he told her stepping in close, pressing his face into hers, connecting lips against lips. He backed her up to the shower cubicle and opened the shower door. "Get in," he directed roughly.

Gillian pulled her t-shirt off and with a smirk threw it in his face. She stepped under the stream of warm water as Cal dumped her shirt on the floor and pulled his boxer-briefs down over his thighs. He heaved them somewhere in the vicinity of the hamper but he didn't care too much where they landed. He was already seeing his naked wife now slick with the damp of hot water. He slipped in behind her, turning her with a hand on her shoulder. He suppressed her surprise with a kiss. A deep kiss. When he pulled away her eyes had already gone dark with desire.

Cal took the time to slide his hands over her slick body, paying particular attention to all the places he knew drove her wild. When she reached for him he confiscated her hands. "I'm tryin' to make you hot," he told her. If she tried to squirm out of his grip she could do so easily; her skin was slippery, hard to hold on to. But she didn't protest. Cal let her go anyway, he needed one hand to hook her leg up to his waist, the other was all ready busy making her feel good.

Just like in his dream, Cal could feel the tips of her fingers digging in to the back of his shoulders, feel her breath coming quickly as her desire built, her hips grinding against his hand. He wrapped an arm around her back, steadying her and holding her simultaneously.

"Why don't we go into the bedroom?" Gillian almost begged.

"No time."

"It's six thirty in the morning," Gillian complained, her voice terse.

"I meant you," Cal clarified. He felt her shudder. "You're close right?"

She nodded tightly, her eyes closing, her grip on his arm suddenly tightening.

"If we went to the bedroom," Cal told her in a low voice. "I'd have to stop." He sucked gently on her neck, careful it wasn't hard enough to leave a mark. "Do you want me to stop?"

Gillian shook her head violently.

"You sure?" Cal asked contritely.

"I'm sure," Gillian breathed. "I'm sure!" She said again, more forcefully, as Cal curled his fingers. "Oh God," she moaned.

Cal teased her some more, drew out her pleasure until her fingers in the muscles of his arms started to hurt. Then he tipped her over and held her while the desire rocketed through her body. He kissed her gently and left her propped up against the wall. He quickly scrubbed soap over his body. He leaned in to kiss her again when he was finished and her eyes opened quickly, her hand finding his cheek. "Enjoy your showa," he told her and turned for the door.

"I already have," Gillian murmured in response. Cal grinned to himself as he stepped out. He dried off quickly and went to the bedroom to get dressed in his work clothes. When he went to hang his towel up again Gillian was cutting the water.

"What was with the sudden verbalisation? You're not usually a talker," Gillian followed him out of the shower.

"You don't like it?" Cal asked innocently knowing full well that she had _loved_ it. He reached for her towel for her.

"I'm not saying that," Gillian responded a little coy as she dried herself. "I'm just saying, you've been different recently."

"Different?" Cal asked feigning perturbance. He turned to the sink.

"Talkative, and not just in bed," she gave him a smirk in the mirror that he had just wiped the steam from. "Happy."

"We had this convasation the otha night," Cal pointed out. "You make me happy. Tryin' to make a baby with you makes me happy."

"Hmm," Gillian mused. "But there's something else."

She didn't press him though and Cal wondered if he should tell her that he had spent some time on the couch of a shrink. What did he have to lose? She certainly wouldn't think less of him. In fact it would probably impress the hell out of her. That is, if she wasn't offended that he hadn't tried to work out his problems with her. Gillian gave him another brilliant smile and left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Gillian's heart pounded. Hard. Hard enough for her to worry about it jumping out of her chest. '_It's only a blood test_,' she told herself trying to calm down and failing miserably at it. She wouldn't get the results immediately. She was still going to have to wait. She had a fleeting thought for Cal. He had wanted to be there with her but she had shrugged him off. It wasn't a big deal. It was just a blood test. And he was busy working. This was going to take five minutes and she would be back at work anyway. But then having him there probably would have served her well. He had been quite the rock in the last month. All the hormone shots, the nights she spent crying over the stupidest things, the needle sticks, the egg harvesting procedure, implantation. The waiting. He was so good with the waiting. Having him there with her now would go a long way to settling her nerves.

Not only was he being her rock, he was hope personified as well. Something had definitely changed for him. He was happy, his face expressive, the mask gone (at least for her it was gone). He was talking to her about things, expressing his hopes and dreams, trying so hard to be there for her. He was the best mix of support and optimism. It was almost like a new Cal had walked in one day in place of the old one. Gillian didn't know whether to complain or not, or if it would last or not, or if she could completely trust it or not. But through the whole emotional rollercoaster that was in-vitro fertilisation, she had to admit, she was insanely glad for the new Cal.

"Ok," a phlebotomist entered the little booth where Gillian waited. He consulted the patient notes, checking to see how much blood he needed to take. He wrapped a tourniquet around her right upper arm, asked her to make a fist. His hands were pleasantly warm and his smile easy. Then he turned his back to pick out the correct vials. He labelled them with her name and the date while the tourniquet dug into Gillian's skin and she could feel her own blood pulsing through her veins.

"How's your day been so far?" He asked while donning white latex gloves.

Gillian thought back to her morning. She had bickered with Cal about the blood test. Then got irritated with Eli for not completing a case file properly. She had tried to review the accounts for a meeting when she got back to the office but had found it too hard to focus. She had been cut off by a red Dodge flat bed truck on her way over. She was feeling a little tense.

"Fine thank you," she answered politely, giving him an utterly un-genuine smile. At least she got the same level of pretence in return. The phlebotomist approached with a fresh needle and took her arm gently. He guided the needle in to the exploding blue vein in the crook of her arm expertly. Gillian's toes curled at the sharp pain. He engaged the first capsule and released the tourniquet almost simultaneously.

Gillian watched the deep red blood flow quickly into the vial. A second was filled. Then the needle was slipped out of her skin again and she had to hold a small ball of cotton wool against the hole left behind. The phlebotomist made sure her blood samples were taken care of before coming to check the bleeding in her arm had stopped. He taped a band aid over the fresh wound and asked if she felt all right.

"I feel fine," she replied. The truth. She had never been queasy over the sight of blood. Not even hers.

"Well go when you're ready," her blood sucker informed her. He left the room before she did. Gillian slipped out of her seat and reached for her jacket. Her right arm felt overly sensitive so she moved slowly, taking her time. At least her heart rate had come down. As she was settling in her car to head back to the office she heard her phone chime from her purse on the passenger seat. It was a text message. From Cal.

**HOWD IT GO? U ALRITE?**

Gillian hit the reply command and typed out a quick response. **FINE. IT WS JST A BLOOD TEST**

Gillian put the phone down on the passenger seat and turned the key in the ignition. She put the car into reverse and pulled from the park and onto the street. She heard the chime of her phone again and ignored it until she was at a light. Making sure her foot was firmly on the break she reached for her phone again and quickly opened the message.

**INDEED. BLOODY IMPRTNT 1 THO**

**PJ**

"Why do I have to go to a readin'?"

"Because you have to."

"I could always suddenly come down with a cold or somethin'." Cal attempted a fake cough. At least it brought a smile to his wife's lips.

Gillian smirked. "Not an option Cal." She finished with his tie, folded down his collar and stepped away from him.

"We could play hooky."

Gillian smiled again. "No."

"You're a spoil sport," Cal teased. It was good to see her smile. She was too tense these days.

"Well, if you're really good I'll tell you what I'm wearing or not wearing under this dress."

Cal's jaw dropped open slightly. "Bloody hell. I'm not gonna be able to concentrate all evenin' now thinkin' about it."

"Well the information depends on it," Gillian fixed him with a stern expression. She crossed the room to retrieve her purse. "So you better try."

"Don't know how I'm supposed to concentrate at all with you wearin' that," Cal eyed her appreciatively.

Gillian gave him a self-satisfied smile from across the room. She turned to the closet for a shrug. Cal checked himself in the mirror. He looked about the same. Gillian looked stunning.

"I could always just have a look what's unda your dress," Cal said to her reflection.

Gillian turned around sharply. "Don't you dare!"

"All right fine. I'm gonna wait in the car," Cal grumped and left the room.

"I won't be long," came Gillian's voice down the hallway.

Cal cut through the garage and climbed into the driver's seat of his car. He put the key in the ignition and his cell in the little space underneath the stereo controls on the dash column. He shifted to get comfortable and waited. They were going to a reading for his book. His publisher had picked out the passage he was supposed to read. It would be about ten minutes. He was told to read slowly and enunciate! Then he would sign books for as long as people wanted to buy them. After that he had to schoomze. How he hated to schoomze. At least Gillian was going to be there with him. It sucked more to do these kinds of things alone. He used to drag Emily along as much as possible but she was in Boston now. Cal realised he missed his daughter. He thought about calling her when Gillian came down the steps. The split on that dress was entirely too high but Cal loved it. He loved it when she felt bold enough to wear something like that. As sexy as she dressed normally, it always erred on the side of professional conservatism. It was worth going out tonight just so she would wear something far sexier.

Cal waited for her to climb into the car next to him. He watched how the hem of her dress rode up, the split going even higher. He thought again about insisting they just stay at home. But he had signed a contract and Gillian was the good girl; she would make him follow the rules. He watched her pull her seatbelt over her shoulder and when she clicked it into the clasp and finally looked up to find him studying her, he spoke. "So are you wearin' undawear?"

Gillian's hand immediately shot up to cover his eyes. "No cheating Cal!"

"Oh come on!" Cal complained moving back further in his seat. She didn't let go of his face though. "Just a hint!"

"No. You place nicely and I'll just _show_ you later."

"Oh god," Cal groaned, images rushing through his brain. "Keep talkin' like that and I'm gonna have to go take a cold showa."

"You're teasing yourself," Gillian told him. She took her hand away. "Drive."

Cal thought about pushing his luck. Thought better of it. She was right. He was just winding himself up. Didn't mean he wasn't going to think about it all night until they got home again. He turned the ignition, opened the garage door and set the car in to drive. He tried to remember if he had been in the room when she got dressed. He didn't think so.

At least this was the last commitment he had for the book. It had been a few busy weeks of signings, functions, the book launch and readings. This was the penultimate one. Black tie. Champagne. Canapés. Photo opportunities. Cal didn't like the attention. He just wanted his work to speak for himself. He got all the attention he could handle from Gillian. That was enough for him now.

Gillian looked over at her husband while he drove. She liked the pensive expression. She found it sexy. Before, it usually held a crease of worry, now it was just thoughtful. She wondered if he really was thinking about what was under her dress. She liked that idea, but she also wanted him to up hold his commitments. It wasn't just his reputation on show this evening but their company's, hers as well. Half way there Cal reached for her hand. Gillian gave it a squeeze in return.

When Cal really tried, he could make his accent seem sexy as hell. Gillian had to admit she had to curb her own thoughts as she listened to him read aloud. Cal also made a special effort to pronounce his words properly and he was patient with the question and answer section. He was pleasant throughout the signing. When he was finally finished and could move around the room to talk to other people, Gillian approached with a glass of champagne.

"Not gonna join me luv?"

Gillian shook her head. "You never know." She gave him a coy smile. Cal gave a slight smile, watching her for a moment, the enormity of her simple statement not escaping him.

He bounced a little on his toes. "So you gonna tell me about your undawear now or not?"

"Not yet," Gillian answered simply. She leaned in to his ear. "Just be a good boy a little longer."

Cal gave her his best 'good boy' grin when she pulled away. Gillian laughed. "Come say hello to people," she changed the subject completely.

Cal was definitely on his best behaviour for the rest of the evening. So when they got home and Cal reached to close the garage Gillian leaned over. She pressed her lips against his temple, then whispered in his ear, "I'm not wearing underwear."

Cal just about choked. Satisfied with his response Gillian slipped out of the car. Cal caught up to her in the hallway. She had already removed her shrug and kicked off her shoes. He almost knocked her off her feet with the force of his kiss.

"You're a very sexy lady," Cal murmured against her ear as his hand slid under the skirt of her dress, checking to see if it was true. Gillian giggled in her throat. Yep, Cal was definitely good at this. And she was _loving_ the new Cal.


	3. Chapter 3

Gillian didn't even need the results of the blood test to tell her that she wasn't pregnant. Her period was enough. And it gutted her in a way she hadn't been expecting. Cal had been the one with his hopes built up high. She was being the rational calm headed one. So how had that happened? How had she let herself think that it would even work? It hadn't worked for her with Alec. And now, she not only had her own body working against her, but her age too; time was against her. Cal had made a passing comment about her biological clock ticking. He had no idea just how loud that thing was! She had tried ignoring it. She had tried blocking her ears, wishing it away. It either wouldn't or she was not trying hard enough.

She wondered again at the wisdom of trying _again_ for a baby. Surely someone was trying to tell her something? Maybe she just wasn't listening. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

"I don't accept that," Cal interrupted. She was trying to explain to him. Poor Cal. He had looked so bewildered when he had found her that evening in her office, bawling her eyes out. He had pulled her into a hug, rubbed her back, tried to soothe, tried to work out what was wrong.

"Accept it Cal," Gillian told him, snuffling into a tissue. There were black streaks on it where her mascara had run. She was glad she had managed to hold it together until the rest of the staff had left. "It's over."

"It's not ova!" Cal knelt in front of her desk chair. "It's not ova Gill. We can try again."

"I don't want to try again!" Gillian spoke around a sob escaping from her chest. She didn't want to lose it again in front of Cal. She had told him she wasn't going to get her hopes up about this. She didn't want him to see just how affected by this failed attempt she really was. She needed time to process it and file it away in the dark corner of her mind in a box of heartache labelled 'babies'.

"Let's give it some time," Cal tried to coax.

"I'm not doing it!" Gillian insisted. "I'm not even going to talk about it."

"All right!" Cal backed down. They both knew they were going to have to talk about it eventually. Even if it was just to process what had happened and let it go. Cal's blue eyes searched hers as he looked up at her. His face was a picture of worry and innocence. "You hoped didn't you?" He accused gently.

Gillian wanted to tell him to bugger off. But she nodded her head slightly instead. Cal didn't say anything else. He got to his feet and gently pulled her to hers and put his arms tightly around her. He just hugged her, so warmly, so tenderly and it was so intimate, so full of love and care that Gillian started crying again. Yes, she had hoped. She wanted this to work beyond her wildest dreams. Not just so she could be a mother, but so that she could have a family with Cal. She wanted that so badly. To have a family with _him_.

**PJ**

It seemed the days were getting longer. Technically, they were getting longer, they were heading into summer. But that wasn't what Cal meant. His days seemed to finish later and later, whether the sun was still shining or not. Each case took a little bit more out of him. They were getting more complicated. The city was relying on him more than ever, the book had done that, expecting him to perform miracles sometimes, to pull the rabbit out of his hat. Too bad he had never learnt magic. He would probably be good at it. Magic tricks were just deceptions and Cal knew deceptions. He might have had therapy to get out of the funk he had been experiencing for the last few years (and it was doing freaking wonders for his marriage), but that didn't mean he couldn't spin a good line when he needed to.

Cal stood waiting. He was waiting to see if his lies were being bought. But he didn't have to study the faces of those in front of him to check, he was waiting for a reaction. It depended on what they said next. Then he would know if they had bought the story. Cal was there buying the DA some more time. What Cal really wanted was for the sting to go down so he could wash his hands of this case and just go home to his wife. Buying time for the DA was a favour. The case had been air tight for the last week. Now they were waiting on a judge to sign the warrants.

"How much more time?" Patrick asked looking suspicious.

Cal took his elbow, led him over to a dirty window that looked down on a warehouse space below. The space was empty, save for two 2012 silver Porches' and a red Mercedes. Next to them was a rusty flat bed truck. "Just twenty-four hours," Cal told him in a low voice. He made sure his expression was earnest. "That's all they need."

"Why?"

"Somethin' last minute with one of the boys. Needs sortin' out urgently, if you know what I mean?" Cal lied. It was easier to imply more with his tone than his words. In this game, the less that was actually said, the better.

Patrick gave a quick nod. "Ok," he agreed. "But no more than that. If your buyers aren't here this time tomorrow night, the deal is off. I can't wait any longer than that. We got cops sniffing around too much as it is."

Cal processed that information silently. Patrick's men had either found out about their police tails or Patrick was just being paranoid. Cal hoped he was just paranoid.

"Smoke?" Patrick offered. Cal obliged, lit up, felt the nicotine awaken parts of his brain Cal thought he had closed off many, many years ago. Admittedly, it felt good to let the various chemicals in the cigarette calm his nerve endings. This case and the baby stuff with Gillian had made Cal a stressed out man in the last few months. He studied Patrick through the exhaled smoke. He didn't see signals of doubt or disbelief. His story had been bought. He had given the DA the time he needed. More than enough time to be honest. But the FBI had only two chances to act. Right now or this exact time in twenty-four hours. They were only gathered together in one place to make the sell, then Patrick and his group of criminals would scatter with the wind.

Cal stubbed out his smoke with the hell of his shoe, something he had done a million times in his life and offered his hand to Patrick. They shook firmly. Cal promised to see him tomorrow night and that he would tip him off before hand if anything was amiss. Cal took himself downstairs, making sure his gait was casual. The last thing he wanted to do was run out of there like he was in an anxious hurry. He gave a grin to the big Irish boxer perched on a table near the door. The man glared at Cal. "Fuck you English muffin!" He called in an Ulster accent.

"Late-a darlin'," Cal called back. He blew him a kiss as he reached the door and pulled it open. Something slammed into him hard. He barely had time to get an arm out to break his fall as he was shoved sideways into a ditch. He heard yelling of many voices behind him, the spatter of an automatic rifle. Cal lost his breath as he landed, his heart painfully closing off his throat.

There was an inch of water in the bottom of the ditch he lay in and it was cold. He could feel it seeping through to his underwear and skin. Certain that he wasn't actually hurt in anyway, Cal got to his knees and scrambled up to the level of the road. All around were black SUV wank-fests, GMC logos on their grills, even a few marked police cars. Headlights were on, flashing blue and reds were not. Cops milled around, one closest to Cal took a few moments to spot him and then screamed at him to get to his knees again and put his hands above his head. Cal complied silently.

"Don't move!" The cop told him, the volume of his voice bringing the attention of others. Cal was aware of a gun pointed at his head in the dim light. Then a flashlight was shone in his eyes.

"That's Doctor Lightman," someone identified him. There was a discussion about whether they were sure or not. Then they marched him inside to where Reynolds had Patrick and all of his men on their knees in the middle of the warehouse floor, their arms above their heads. FBI agents were in the process of pat downs. The Irish boxer was glowering menacingly and he had a red mark on his temple where he had clearly collected the butt end of a pistol. Patrick was studying the floor.

The cop who had found Cal in the first place crossed the open space and murmured in Reynolds' ear. Reynolds turned to where Cal was standing, his hands still stretched above his head, the damp spreading around his torso. Reynolds approached. "You all right?" He asked in a low voice.

"I love takin' a midnight swim," Cal quipped.

"Had to get you out of the way without giving them any warning," Reynolds explained. Or was he apologising?

"It's fine. Can I go now?" Cal asked, still keeping his hands above his head.

"I might need your help questioning these guys."

"Let me rephrase," Cal dropped his arms. "I'm goin' home." He turned without waiting for a response. He could hear the cop ask if it was all right to let him leave and Ben's assent. If they needed his help, it could wait until the morning.

"Oi English muffin!"

Cal kept walking.

"You're dead mate!" The Irish boxer called after him.

Cal turned, gave a sweeping bow, a grin, spun on his heel and kept walking. But worry did grip his stomach for a second. Just a second. What about retribution? What about Gillian? He had been promised protection. He had been assured they would not make bail. It was a federal case. They would be tied up for months.

A blast of cold wind struck Cal across the chest as he stepped outside in to the night again. His wet clothes instantly chilled him. He was escorted to his car, the cop making sure he left, or maybe that no one else mistook him for one of the bad guys. Cal cranked the heat up in his car as he drove home. He fought the impulse to stop for a pack of smokes and headed home. The house was nice and warm when he came through the internal garage doorway. He kicked off his shoes by the door and wandered up the hallway, sensing where his wife was.

"I'm sorry I'm late."

"That's ok," Gillian gave him a warm smile.

"Should have called," Cal continued making his way further into the kitchen.

"You always come home when you're ready," Gillian told him, turning back to the stove.

"What's for dinna?"

"Pasta."

Comfort food in Gillian's world. Cal would bet she had come home to have chocolate pudding as a snack too. Or ice cream.

"Smells good."

Gillian's nose twitched. She turned back to face him and took in his dishevelled clothes, the dirt at the side of his neck. She approached cautiously, a slight smile playing on her lips. She put her hands to his face, kissed him very gently. Cal felt his stomach squirm. Even after four and a half years (or was it really five, could Cal count those six months they were apart?), she could still make his stomach squirm. That, he took as a very good sign. Her comfort food cooking, he wasn't so sure about what that signified.

"You know what you need?" She asked in a low husky voice. She kept her face very close to his so he felt he couldn't look at her without going cross eyed.

"What's that luv?" He almost whispered his response, his eyes still closed, feeling the warmth of her hands soothe.

"A shower," Gillian announced stepping back. Cal suppressed a groan. "No seriously," she told him. "Take a shower. Dinner will be ready when you get back."

Cal let her hear his sigh and caught the returning smirk just before both of them turned away. He went to the bathroom and stripped off. As his clothes passed over his head Cal caught a wiff of sewerage. Or mud. Or something equally as foul. He sniffed his arm. He really did need a shower.

The hot water felt good. Cal could see the bloom of a bruise already starting to form on his left wrist. He checked where his head had hit the ground. No blood came away on his fingers but the spot was tender. He washed his hair.

"So are you smoking again?"

Cal turned surprised. Gillian had the shower cubicle door open and was watching him. He hadn't even heard her come in.

"I could smell them over the stink of your clothes."

"What are you doin' sneakin' up on me?" He asked lightly.

"You're deflecting," Gillian pointed a finger at him, like he usually did.

"A bloke I was with was smokin'," Cal told her.

"Funny. Because I could taste them on your tongue."

Cal saw a flash of disgust. "All right. I had one," he confessed.

"Just one?" Gillian raised an eyebrow.

"I'd like it to be two," Cal admitted. "But nah. Just one."

Gillian studied him thoughtfully. "You're not going to take up smoking again are you?"

Cal suspected if he said he _was_ going to she would just nod and go back to the kitchen. But he doubted that would be the end of it. There probably wouldn't be a complete campaign to get him to quit again, but she would make her feelings clear. And the funny thing was, he'd listen to her. He wouldn't start again to begin with. It felt like a good idea. He missed them, now that he'd had a taste. But they just didn't seem worth the hassle anymore. He didn't need to kill himself slowly sucking on all those toxins. He didn't need Gillian to push him away because he smelt like smoke. He didn't need to slowly poison her too. "Nah. Absolutely no intention to start smokin' again. It was just part of the act."

Gillian nodded. Cal waited. Normally he would be annoyed and accuse her of smothering (and maybe she was waiting for him to say something about it too?). But since the failed attempt at IVF he found himself making all kinds of allowances and thinking about things in completely different ways; what if she was pregnant? He wouldn't want to be smoking around their kid; that was why he'd quit the first time. He really did have no intention of taking up smoking again. Gillian shifted her weight so her hip jutted out. She looked him up and down and a little smile played on her lips.

"Wanna join me?" Cal invited, seeing appreciation in her eyes.

"I have pasta cooking."

Cal gave a slight shrug. "It's just food." He turned to face her.

"Hhmm," Gillian seemed to agree. "But I'm hungry." She paused and met his eyes. She flashed a brilliant smile. "Definitely later though."


	4. Chapter 4

"Cal are you awake?"

"Yeah," he confirmed.

"Can we talk about the baby thing?"

"Argh!" Cal groaned. "Why do you torture me woman?"

He could hear Gillian huff, but it was bravado; her tone was tight with insecurity. "Do you want to talk about it or not?"

"I wanna talk about it," Cal assured her. "But I hate that we talk in the dark."

"This is when I process my day and my thoughts," Gillian told him. "Turn the light on if you must."

Cal suppressed his frustration. He went still, calmed down, relaxed the muscles in his throat so his voice would come out evenly. "It's all right. We can talk in the dark."

"Are you sure Doctor Lightman? You wouldn't prefer to get a camera in here?"

"Don't be snide," Cal reprimanded lightly, refusing to retaliate but not quite repressing the urge to bite back. He had tried talking her back into a second round of IVF but every time he had brought it up in the weeks after the first attempt she had cried and he had decided his heart couldn't take that anymore. Her heart couldn't take that anymore. So he had let it go. Maybe she had just needed some time? "You know what you need?"

"What?"

Cal rolled into her, put his arms around her, turned her body in to him so he could hug her tightly. "You need to relax."

"Cal," Gillian tried to force him away.

"Relax," Cal told her. "All this baby stuff is drivin' us both to the edge of a cliff. I don't want it to come between us." He held her even tighter until he felt her arm muscles stop resisting.

Then her torso relaxed, her legs and finally her head. She tucked it in to his neck and she sighed. "I know."

"I don't want you to resent me."

"I don't resent you!"

Cal definitely wished he could see her face on that one. His arms suddenly felt twitchy. He really wanted to put that light on. He rubbed her back instead. "I pushed you to try again."

Gillian's hand shifted between their bodies so she could squeeze his arm. "You talked me into it because deep down I wanted you to."

That was insightful.

"I don't resent you. This isn't your fault. If anything, I'm dragging you through it."

"Darlin' you don't drag me through anythin'. I follow you willingly wherevea you go."

"You're sweet," Gillian sighed.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Cal prompted gently. He relaxed his arms on her but still kept her close.

Gillian was silent for a moment and Cal let her thoughts gather. "I'm still thinking about it."

"Which part?" Cal dared to coax.

"About, trying again," Gillian sounded hesitant.

Cal couldn't have stopped his muscles reacting if he had tried. They fired of their own will. He squeezed her. "Really?" he asked hearing his own strained optimism in his own tone.

"Thinking about it," Gillian clarified.

"Thinkin's good. Thinkin's a start."

"So you'd be interested in trying again?"

"Yeah," Cal answered quickly. He felt his stomach set on edge. That confidence he'd felt several months ago was back. He had a good feeling about trying to have a baby with Gillian. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was convinced it was going to work. They just had to try and be persistent with trying. "I don't think we should give up so easily."

"Easy for you to say," Gillian's voice lowered in tone. "You haven't been trying to have children for a decade."

Cal felt uncomfortable with that. "Fair enough."

"I'm sorry," Gillian was immediately apologetic. "I don't mean to take it out on you."

"It's allowed," Cal told her.

"I hate that I've become so bitter about it."

"Me too."

"It shouldn't be such a chore."

"Totally agree."

Gillian paused. "You're agreeing with me?" She sounded surprised. She shifted her head out of the crook of his neck.

"On occasion, I've been known to agree with you."

"The very odd occasion," Gillian teased.

Cal chuckled. Humour was good. "I've said it before, I'll say it again; I hate that you're not a mutha. I want to do everythin' in my powa to have a baby with you. If that means I have to prop you up emotionally I will."

"You think I need propping up?" Gillian sounded slightly offended.

Cal cringed at his own words. "That came out wrong. What I mean is, if I have to dust off my psychology degree to make sure I'm the best husband and support for you that I can be then I will. I'm not sayin' you're a fragile mess that needs me to patronise you and hold your hand every minute of the day. You're probably the strongest person I know. I'm just sayin', we all need to voice our fears occasionally; doin' it with someone you trust is important. I want to be that person you trust. I want for you to be able to talk to me about this. Even if it's to tell me to back off cos you've had enough. If you've had enough, that's all right too."

Gillian pulled away from him even more. Cal could only see the shadow of her face. "Wow, I think _I_ might need the light on," she breathed.

"You know what I want," Cal told her gently.

"To have kids with me?"

"Yeah. But mostly what I want is for you to be happy. If this is too hard, if it makes you miserable beyond repair, then I don't want it."

"I knew there was a reason I married you," Gillian's voice sounded emotional. Cal wondered if she was crying. He thought about reaching for that light. "I want to try again," Gillian continued so quietly Cal thought maybe he had misheard. He waited a beat for her, holding his breath, in case she had something to add.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Really sure?"

"Yes," Gillian half laughed.

Cal lifted his head up to kiss her softly. "Want me to be the optimist again?"

"No."

"No?" Cal was curious.

"No more hopes or optimisms or thoughts about this working. I just want to do it and expect it to fail and then if it does I won't be so shattered."

Cal thought that was very unlike Gillian. He wanted to argue that positivity was important blah, blah, blah; something about the law of attraction. They had to want it for it to happen right?

"Please Cal? It's the only way I can think to deal with it."

"All right," he murmured reluctantly.

Gillian kissed him briefly. "Thanks."

"So want me to make an appointment with the docta?"

"I'll do it," her voice was tight again.

Cal grimaced. So they weren't going to talk about it or get excited but she was still allowed to let it bother her? Didn't seem fair. Cal leaned down so he was close to her face. Now that she was lying on her back he could see more of her expression from the light coming through the curtains. He could see Gillian's eyes shift towards him. "If you're not sure about this, then we shouldn't do it. I don't want to see you destroyed."

Gillian studied him for a long time. "I promise I won't let it."

After a beat Cal answered, "All right." He shifted again so he was lying flat on his back.

"But Cal?"

"Yeah?"

"This really is the last time."

"All right."

**PJ**

Cal felt shell shocked. He was walking in a daze. It wasn't that the news was completely unexpected, it was just that he hadn't been expecting it on the heels of the tragedy with Gillian. And he was calling it a tragedy because that's exactly how it felt. A bloody unjust tragedy against an innocent person, her not getting pregnant. He had felt so confident and now he felt like he had been cheated out of something that was rightfully his. Or theirs, he should say. He was feeling destructive. He wanted to drink. To get absolutely shit faced and get in his car and do something stupid.

Cal was behind the wheel now. The street was dark and empty. It was lit up by orange streetlights and the colourful call of traffic signals, blinkingly marking each intersection down the road. The engine started easily and he could feel the throb of a powerful engine. This wasn't his car, he was sitting on the right side, as if he were in England. This was better. He felt more comfortable on the right side of the vehicle. Cal hit the accelerator and the car screamed away from the curb. The light in front of Cal suddenly turned green, he surged through the intersection without even slowing down to think.

Cautious was clearly no longer in Cal's dictionary. He raced through intersection after intersection. He slouched low in the seat, feeling dangerous and loving it. Then one of the lights turned yellow. Cal sped up and made it across before it turned red. The next light was already yellow as he approached. Cal sped up again to sail through. This time the light turned red as he reached the other side. Cal turned left and powered to the end of the block. Then he turned left again, left again and then right. He was doubling back, heading back up the street he had just powered down.

If Gillian was there she would have told him to slow down. If Gillian was there, Cal wondered if he would have listened to her. He felt terribly shitty inside. He was feeling loss like he couldn't explain. It could only mean someone had died. But he couldn't seem to remember who. No, wasn't this about trying to have a baby? The light in front of him started to turn yellow. Cal gunned it and the car almost got air as it sailed across the intersection. He had no idea how fast he was going. The next light was red as he approached but it suddenly turned green. The next light was yellow. Cal felt his foot level against the floor, the accelerator obliterated under the leather sole of his shoe. Where was everybody anyway? Even at three am there was traffic around. No matter where he was, DC, London...

Cal realised he didn't know where he was. Somewhere in England maybe. Or Australia or New Zealand. They also drove on the left hand side of the road. That would make sense. But what didn't was what he was doing there. And who was that on the street? A figure, in the middle of the road. Cal realised he wasn't slowing down. He hit the break but it was like it wasn't connected or he was just going too fast for it to have an impact because the car didn't slow. Not in the slightest. Cal could feel the force of the speed through his bones. He wasn't stopping. He let go of the wheel and braced himself for the collision, thinking that while dangerous things felt really good and were a lot of fun, someone invariably got hurt. He was going to get hurt. And he was going to hurt Gillian because if he died she would be crushed and so very mad at him.

The figure got closer and closer and Cal suddenly recognised the face. He panicked. He closed his eyes, felt the impact as he simultaneously woke up; his heart pounding beyond reason. He was sitting up in bed. Gillian was next to him, still alive, safe under the covers. She shifted in her sleep. Cal could feel a cold sweat prickling along his shoulders. That sense of loss had compounded into a hard ball of dread in the pit of his stomach.

Death meant change. Not that he subscribed to that new age kind of bull shit. But then he had been talking about the law of attraction the other day, so maybe he did.

Gillian turned over. "What's wrong?"

"Nuthin luv, strange dream," Cal lay down again, feeling his heart returning to normal, his breath evening out into a steady cadence. Stranger dream because he didn't often recall what he was dreaming about. They were, most of the time, blurry images swirling around each other and by the time he had reached the bathroom in the morning they were gone again. He was starting to suspect Doctor Wu had woken something up in his subconscious. His mind was processing stuff while he was sleeping.

Cal knew the point of a dream was not what he had seen but how he had felt. Loss. Gut wrenching loss. And it had worsened when he had realised the figure in the street was his wife. So... did that mean he was losing Gillian? Was doing another cycle of IVF really driving a wedge between them? Was it the wrong thing to do? Was Cal going to wake up one day to find her gone? Or was this about him and his self destructiveness? Maybe he missed it. Cal didn't think he did. Life had been good with it gone. Or maybe it was just a scary dream and he should ignore it. Cal turned on to his side, draped an arm over his wife's waist.

"Mm," she sounded pleased. Sleepy, but pleased. "Bad dream huh? Want to talk about it?" She murmured.

"Nope," Cal whispered. He pressed his lips against her temple. "Back to sleep," he told the both of them.

"Mm," Gillian agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

Phone calls in the dead of the night didn't tend to bode well. Cal must have been dead to the world because it took him a long time to wake, identify the chime of his phone, find it on the bed side table and answer it. He wasn't even sure he had formed a proper greeting. He wasn't even sure it was his phone. He was aware of Gillian rolling over next to him, a sleepy groan in the back of her throat.

"Cal? It's Cerys."

"Cerys," Cal repeated.

"Sorry to wake you up. But it's your father William."

As if he had another father.

"He passed away Cal. I'm so sorry."

Cal turned bleary eyes to the digital clock. Four seventeen am.

"Cal?"

"Yeah I'm here," Cal responded. "Thanks for the call. When did he go?"

"We found out a few hours ago."

"When's the funeral?"

"Saturday."

"Thomas makin' the arrangements?"

"He's meeting with your father's lawyer about his wishes."

"You need money?"

"William had a funeral plan."

"All right." Cal paused. He didn't know what else to say. The conversation was weird to start with. "I'll fly out today probably. I'll have to call Em."

"We can put you up," Cerys immediately offered.

"Thanks Cerys, but I'll find a hotel. And I'll call you when we get there."

Cal hung up.

"What's going on?" Gillian asked her voice strained with sleep.

"My Dad died."

There was a moment's silence.

"Oh honey I'm so sorry," Gillian shifted so she was sitting up. She put her arms around the back of Cal's shoulders. She kissed the side of his neck. "Can I do something for you?"

"Nah, darlin' I'm all right," Cal leaned back and she shifted so he could lie down again. He opened his arm though so she could lie with him. "Funeral's Saturday. I'll try and get flights for late-a this evenin'."

"Ok."

"Can you reschedule my meetin' with Mr Daniels?"

"Sure."

"And call Ria, tell her she's in charge."

"Yes."

"The video for the Hallmark case is supposed to be delivered first thing."

"Cal," Gillian tried to stop him.

"I'll have to call Em when it's a decent hour."

"Ok. Anything else?"

Cal sighed. "I dunno."

"If I said he was in a better place would it make you feel better?"

"Probably not. He was an old man. It was his time."

"Hhm," Gillian held him a little tighter. "Your black suit's clean. But you need to polish your shoes."

Cal suppressed an eye roll. She had been telling him to do it for weeks. He wasn't too worried about it now though. He was more worried about how he was feeling about hearing of his father's death. Should there be crushing grief? Was he really feeling as blasé about it as he was behaving? He was an old man, it was his time. Yeah that was true but he was still Cal's father.

"Ok?" Gillian asked, rubbing her hand over his chest, right over his heart.

"I dunno luv. Still sinkin' in I think."

Gillian sat up. "I'm not going to be able to sleep." She reached for the light. Cal turned his head away from it as it cut right through his retinas. "Call the airline, book your flights. I'll polish your shoes."

"Oi," Cal caught her arm before she could climb off the bed. "You're comin' with me right?"

"I don't know if I can Cal."

"Why not?" He was genuinely surprised.

"You know why."

"Nah I don't."

"I'm not sure I can travel with the pharmacy you're injecting in my ass."

On another day, Cal would have smirked.

"I need you there luv. Surely you can get a writ from the Doc about the meds. So long as you put them in your checked luggage."

Gillian looked uncertain.

"Gill I need you with me," Cal told her again.

"You call the airline," Gillian repeated. "I'll call the doctor."

Cal didn't let go of her arm. "Late-a. Come and lie with me." He tugged on her arm. "I want you to lie with me a moment." Cal lowered himself back against the pillow and Gillian complied, falling into the crook of his arm again. Cal stroked her hair. "It's gonna be crazy the next few days. I just want some quiet for a moment."

"Ok," Gillian breathed.

This was kind of like a second chance for the both of them. Last time Cal's father had been on deaths door he had taken off to London with barely a second thought to Gillian going with him. This time he not only wanted her there but knew it was important for her to be with him. They were married after all. He shouldn't go to his father's funeral without his wife at his side. This time around, Gillian got to be there from the start.

Cal started to feel like maybe he would go back to sleep. Gillian's breathing had certainly fallen into a steady rhythm. He checked the clock. It was six am now. "Gill?"

"Yeah?" She didn't sound so sleepy.

"Time to get up."

"Ok," she lifted herself into a sitting position.

"Coffee, showa, breakfast, phone calls, in that orda."

"You shower, I'll make coffee, meet you for breakfast," Gillian countered.

Cal took his toothbrush into the shower with him. Two birds with one stone, why not? He scrubbed away at his teeth, studying his feet, his left hand hugged across his chest. He might be taking a while to get used to the idea that his father was really gone, but of one thing he was sure, he was glad he had gone to make his peace a few years ago. They had talked sporadically on the phone since then but it had been good, to keep up some sort of connection. The last time Cal had spoken to William there had been no indication of declining health; aside from the obvious failings of an old body giving out on him.

"You know, if you brush too hard you'll erode your gums," Gillian's voice was clear over the water.

Cal looked up. She had the shower door open and was watching him. The second time she had managed to sneak up on him. Cal spat the toothpaste out of his mouth and reached over his shoulder to rinse his hand and the brush.

"Where'd you go?"

"Thinkin' about my Dad."

"What about him?" Gillian asked gently as Cal rinsed his mouth out.

"I was sixteen when I got my first tattoo," Cal rubbed his hand over the band on his arm. Gillian raised her eyebrows. "Lied about my age to get it done. Dad went ballistic." Gillian smiled slightly. "I thought I was bein' hard. Needles hurt like hell."

"I can attest to that," Gillian cut in.

Cal gave her a slight smile. He knew needles hurt like hell and she had the bruises to attest to her experience with them too. She barely flinched though when he shot the hormones into her. She was so brave.

"What about this one?" Gillian reached for his right hand, pulled his arm so they could see the tattoo on the inside of his forearm.

"That is a war tatt."

"From Bosnia?"

"Northern Ireland, Bosnia, a few otha places."

"You didn't get anything done when you were in Afghanistan." She paused. "Unless I just didn't know about it."

"I decided I didn't want to record that stuff anymore."

Gillian nodded. "Thoughts about any more?"

Cal shook his head slightly. "I'm tryin' to be less self-destructive."

"Yes I've noticed."

"Are you joinin' me in here or what?" Cal changed the subject.

Gillian looked amused. She stripped off her shirt. Cal turned the temperature of the water up just before she stepped in. "Mmm," she murmured her approval. Cal moved out of her way so she could have the water.

"You know why my Dad was so mad?"

"Because you got a tattoo at sixteen?" Gillian turned to face him.

"He said he had wanted to take me if I was interested."

Gillian hadn't been expecting that answer. "Sounds like he was just as mad as you are."

Cal gave her a beautiful grin. "Yeah probably."

At least he wasn't as mad as his mother.

Cal gave her a quick kiss and reached for the shower door.

"There's coffee in the pot."

Cal acknowledged the information. He dried quickly, dressed in jeans and a shirt. He was dialling Emily's cell number as he poured himself a mug of caffeine.

"Hey Dad. We talked yesterday, this could count as parental smothering."

"Good mornin' to you too daughta but I call with bad news."

"Oh god. Are you all right?" Her tone was all seriousness.

"Yeah." Cal sipped his coffee.

"Mom? Gillian? Who?" Slightly edgy.

"Uh, fine, fine and Grandpa. He's gone sweetheart."

Emily was silent for a moment. "When?"

"This mornin' apparently. Got a call at four am."

"From Uncle Thomas?"

"Cerys."

"Oh."

"I'm headin' to the funeral. It's Saturday."

"I'll come."

"You don't have to sweetheart. You just got back to school."

"Dad I think I can take a long weekend without falling behind too much. I'll have a friend take extra thorough notes. When do we leave?"

"Haven't organised flights yet."

"You've been awake since four am and you haven't already organised travel plans?"

"Such accusation!" Cal teased right on back. "I wanted to talk to you first. See what you wanted to do. I'll book 'em and call you back."

"Cool." A pause. "Hey Dad."

"Yeah luv?"

"I'm sorry. About your Dad."

"Thanks luv."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah, you know. It's a bit of a surprise but kind of not right? I mean, he was elderly."

"He was," Cal agreed. He heard the shower stop. He took another sip of the hot coffee. He looked for evidence that Gillian had already had some and headed to the fridge for milk.

"Well thanks for not calling me at four am."

"I'll text you the flights."

"Love you Dad."

"Love you too daughta." Cal hung up. There was a mug on the breakfast bar, hiding behind a roll of paper towels. He found his laptop under a half folded newspaper in the dining room and powered it up to book flights, first to Boston to get Emily and then on to London. There was one leaving Dulles at two pm. Perfect timing. Gillian came in and draped her arms around his neck. She kissed the side of his head and then nuzzled in to the back of his ear. Cal's stomach squirmed in delight.

"You smell good," she told him before pulling away.

"Breakfast?" Cal suggested absently, pulling his phone back out of his pocket to update the travel plans for his daughter.

"What are you offering?"

Cal got up and followed her to the kitchen. "Toast. Eggs. Porridge."

"You mean oatmeal?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Cal responded dryly. He went to the fridge. Leftovers? He didn't feel much like eating.

"Toast sounds about all I can handle right now."

Cal shut the fridge, turned to his wife. She had perched at the breakfast bar, coffee cup in her hands, fingers wrapped around it, letting the heat warm her hands. Cal watched her. "All right?"

She nodded. "You all right?"

"Yeah. Not hungry."

"Me either." She sipped her drink, blue eyes watching him over the rim. "Probably because I've been awake since four."

"Shouldn't you be starvin' then?" Cal found his coffee where he'd left it.

"Too nervy."

"Why are you nervy?"

"Worrying about you. Worrying about the IVF."

Cal put his mug down, crossed to where she was sitting. "What about the IVF?"

"I don't want to have to stop mid cycle because I can't take the drugs to London and I don't want to stay here." The first stage of the cycle was for ten days of hormone injections.

"Call the docta, find out what the deal is. Then we can worry about it." He stroked hair away from her face. He had already booked her flight. He was not taking no for an answer. "And don't worry about me, luv, I'm all right."

"You're very calm about this."

"I guess I knew in the back of my mind that it was comin'." Cal had a sudden flash to his dream. His brow wrinkled before he knew the thought was on his face.

"What was that?" Gillian asked gently.

"I had a dream."

"That one day we would all live in peace?" Gillian quipped.

"I'm glad you can make light of the situation," Cal responded nonchalantly.

"Sorry," the smile dropped from her face but not her eyes. "Tell me about your dream."

"In it I was naked," Cal started with a cliché.

"Should I be taking notes?"

"You'd think by now you'd know what I look like naked."

Gillian laughed. Cal was glad the worry had eased from her forehead. Flights booked, coffee, wife less worried; three objectives down...

"I dreamt about drivin' too fast in a car. I had this terrible sense of loss and I woke up when I hit somethin'."

"Hhm, sounds like a nightmare."

"Wasn't too fond of it."

"The loss could be about your father. But that would make it a premonition though don't you think? Do you often dream about the future?"

"Not at all. In fact, I rarely rememba my dreams at all." Cal moved back around the breakfast bar to the toaster. He put slices into the slots from the loaf on the bench.

"Why suddenly remember this one?"

"Because I woke up with my heart poundin'?"

"Interesting. Shame I don't remember what I learnt about dreams in school."

"I'm sure if I cared enough I could hunt down a book from my library." Cal caught her smirk as she sipped her drink again.

"I thought you weren't hungry."

"I'm not. But we've been awake since four and it's now seven thirty. We should eat. Keep our strength up and all that. It's gonna be a long day."

**PJ**

Gillian went to The Lightman Group to reschedule meetings and organise for Ria to run the place for a few days. Cal polished his nice shoes and packed. Before she left, Gillian rang the doctor. Cal was right, she needed to check the pack containing the hormone injections into her case, so long as she declared them at either end she should be fine to leave the country. He emailed a letter for her explaining what they were for. They were in the air just after two. They transferred to the next flight and Emily joined them on the plane. Cal hugged her tightly when she had boarded. Gillian hugged her too. She went to sleep during the flight to London. Cal and Emily talked quietly.

The three of them had to go separate ways at immigration and passport control though. Gillian travelled on an American passport; she had to queue in the massive snaking line along with all the other foreigners. Cal and Emily waltzed on through with barely a second glance. Cal found the first seat on the other side and stretched out his legs to wait.

"How long do you reckon?" Cal asked his daughter.

"For Gillian?"

"Yeah. I'm peggin' it at two hours."

"Geeze that's steep. I'll give it an hour ten minutes."

"Precise. I like that." Cal leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. The roar of noise in Heathrow would never let him sleep, but it was late and it had been a long day and his eyes burned. Emily pulled a magazine from her bag and started to flick through it.

After forty-five minutes she spoke. "The line wasn't that long, you sure you want to keep to your two hours?"

"Yep," Cal answered confidently. He checked his watch. This sucked. He hoped she was all right. "I should tell you somethin' that puts the odds in my fave-a."

"Oh?" Emily quirked an eyebrow. "Revealing insider knowledge? Unlike you."

"Sensitive information though. Family only. And by family I mean you, me and Gill. No one else."

"All right," Emily agreed suddenly sensing he was serious.

"Not Aunty Cerys, Uncle Thomas, Sara, your Mum."

"Ok," Emily agreed. "Should I be worried?"

Cal hesitated, toyed with telling her, wanted her to know but didn't want to jinx anything.

"Come on Dad you're killing me here."

"You shouldn't say killin' loudly in a crowd," Cal pointed to a camera opposite where they were waiting. "Big Brutha is listenin'."

Emily swatted his arm. "You can't dangle information in front of me and then not divulge the rest of it."

"Gill and I are tryin' to get pregnant."

"What?" Emily's jaw dropped open.  
"She's takin' a whole bunch of hormones to mature her eggs and that's probably what's slowin' her down. We're in the middle of a cycle."

"Oh my god, you're having a baby?"

"Tryin' to."

Emily looked confused and slightly angry. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Well, it's a delicate situation as I'm sure you can appreciate." Cal hoped she was going to understand, not get angry with him.

"I really don't know what to say to that."

Cal just watched, waited. Finally Emily looked up. "I think it's great you're trying for a baby. But I am pissed you didn't tell me," she warned with a finger. "Although I can relent that it's complicated and I have no idea how much..." she waved her hand. "You having more kids is crazy. But I'm glad you're doing it with Gillian. I hope it works."

"Me too," Cal agreed.

"For her sake. You, I'm still not sure about." She narrowed her eyes at him.

Cal smirked, thought about a retaliation and then saw Gillian come around the corner. He sprung out of his chair. "Everythin' all right?"

"Yeah," she nodded, smiled slightly. She looked tired. Cal took her bag for her and retrieved his. They walked out into the main airport. Cal hadn't called Cerys. They took a taxi through the city to the hotel. Then he called her to let her know they had arrived safe and sound. Cerys berated him for not letting her pick them up. He took it. He told her they were all exhausted and going to sleep. Emily was in the adjoining room to Cal and Gillian's. They said their goodnights and Cal shut the door. Gillian was lying on the bed. Cal crossed the room, knelt next to her and leaned over her body. Her eyes flicked open and looked up at him.

"Still all right?" She asked. "Now that you're home?"

Cal nodded. "You know we only moved to London when I was ten? I kind of grew up somewhere else."

"Where?" Gillian immediately asked.

Cal pointed at the floor. "Sort of furtha south. I'll show you before we leave."

"I'd really like that," Gillian said with warm enthusiasm. She reached up and pulled Cal down into a hug, then a kiss. She was still loving that he was revealing more of himself to her voluntarily. "Have you ever taken drugs?"

Cal pulled back, letting her see his surprise. "Why would you ask me that?"

"I smuggled drugs into the country today, you're talking about your childhood," she said it as if it were a logical conclusion to come to.

"I've smoked pot if that's what you mean," Cal sat back on his feet.

Gillian leaned up on her elbows. "Who hasn't? I meant harder stuff."

Cal's lip curled up in amusement. "You've smoked weed?" He saw the glimmer on her face that answered 'yes'. "Bloody hell Gill. That good girl image of yours is startin' to waiva big time."

Gillian rolled her eyes at him slightly. "Who hasn't experimented in college?"

"Oi, oi," Cal grinned devilishly. "What else did you experiment with in college? Eva test your sexuality?"

"I'll only answer that if you tell me about _your_ experiments with sexuality," Gillian challenged.

"His name was Doug. He was very gentle," Call immediately responded.

"Liar, liar," Gillian sing-songed at him, pointing a finger.

Cal playfully slapped her hand away, laughing. "No really. You kissed a girl?"

Gillian immediately covered his eyes with her hand. "Not answering Cal."

"Can I take that as a 'yes'?"

"No you cannot."

"Sounds like a deflection luv."

"I think _you're_ deflecting. You haven't answered _my_ question."

"What was it?" Cal pretended he couldn't remember. Gillian took her hand away and fixed him with a stern expression. "All right," Cal sighed and flopped back on the mattress. "Hard drugs. Let's see. I've smoked a few things in my time. Neva shot anythin' up with a needle." A thought suddenly occurred to him. He looked over at her. "This isn't gonna lead back to Alec somehow is it?"

Gillian turned over and then shifted so she was straddling his torso. "Nope. He doesn't even cross my mind anymore."

Cal turned her quickly and leaned in close to see her face. Gillian laughed lightly. "Now, about this girl," he studied her face carefully.

"What girl?" Gillian asked innocently, her gaze steady. Cal wasn't sure he saw any signs of deception. Maybe there really wasn't a girl. Now he wasn't certain. Gillian leaned in to his ear. "Trust me Cal. My college experience was tame compared to what you've put me through," she spoke in a low voice. Then she licked his ear lobe and Cal felt a groan involuntarily escape his mouth.


	6. Chapter 6

"I told Emily."

"You told her what?" Gillian looked over her shoulder at him.

Cal moved back behind her to the correct position. "About the IVF. Don't be mad! I just," he paused. Actually he had no idea why he had told her. Maybe so they weren't so alone in it, so isolated in their bubble of knowing. "I don't know if she'll say anythin' to you. Just wanted to warn you that she knows."

Gillian moved from where she had been bracing at the end of the bed and sat on the mattress, looking up at him. She watched him for a long time, her expression neutral. Then a flicker of anger, sadness, slight shame. Cal waited for a verbal response. She gave a sigh, more of a huff. So she was mad. The fact that his father had just died probably saved his arse.

"That was private," she finally responded.

"I know. But she's my daughta."

Gillian continued to watch him neutrally. She got up again and pulled down the elastic of her pyjama bottoms and underwear as she turned her back on him again.

"I don't really feel right about stickin' you with a needle unless I know we're all right," Cal told her. He could see the little holes the needles made on her bare skin and the purple bruises around them.

"We're all right Cal," Gillian told him, her voice neutral.

Cal still hesitated though, needle in one hand, anti-septic wipe in the other.

"Just do it."

"That's what you said last night," Cal quipped before he had thought it through. Might not be the best time for lewd jokes.

Gillian shot a glare over her shoulder but the sight of a contrite Cal watching her, needle in one hand, anti-septic wipe in the other was suddenly comical. She laughed and straightened up. She turned around again. "Ok, I'm not thrilled someone else knows. I didn't want to have to disappoint a third party but I know she's your daughter and she's important to you so I can concede."

Cal took a half step closer. "I think it would be very hard for you to disappoint Em. Hell, it'd be hard for you to disappoint anyone Gill."

"Are you trying to soften the blow?"

"Little bit."

"The needle or your big mouth?" She gave him a forced smile.

"Maybe both."

Gillian turned, assumed the position. "Ok I'm ready."

Cal swabbed a spot on her backside that hadn't already been assaulted and stuck the needle unceremoniously in. Gillian flinched slightly. Making sure he had good depth, Cal pressed down on the plunger.

"I think you take too much pleasure in doing that," Gillian said once the needle was out again.

"Trust me, I don't," Cal responded. He snapped off the needle into a small, bright yellow biohazard bin. "I'd much ratha do this the old fashioned way."

Gillian rubbed the sore spot on her butt. Cal watched her do it and felt a pang of guilt. Gillian watched the expression on his face, quickly crossed to where he was standing and kissed him. Then she went to have a shower.

**PJ**

They had breakfast downstairs together, the three of them. Then they went around to where Cerys and Cal's brother Thomas lived. It was a sombre reunion. Thomas filled Cal in on the funeral details while Cerys fussed over the women, offering tea and biscuits. Cal checked for signs of sadness in his brother's expression but couldn't find them. Maybe that was what happened when you were in your fifties and burying your elderly parents? Cal would bet that Gillian will cry at both of her parent's funerals, no matter how old they were. Maybe he was just heartless.

In the living room Cerys had pulled old Lightman family photos. Cal and Thomas narrated them as much as possible. Emily was delighted to see her father as a toddler. Gillian was too, but not because it was amusing and she could tease him about it later, although she might still do that, but because it got her thinking about what their child would look like at the same age. She realised with a start that she was daring to hope. It made her feel slightly nauseous.

The funeral was the following afternoon; held in a small modern church. There were only a handful of attendees. Cal, Gillian and Emily carried the coffin on one side; Thomas, Cerys and Sarah on the other. Thomas did the eulogy, Cal did a reading. Emily cried a bit and Gillian, already hyped up on synthetic hormones, felt tears in her eyes too. Cal looked over, took her hand, and shot her an expression so full of love her heart skipped a beat and the tears slid down her cheeks. Afterward there was a small reception. Cal spent the time catching up with old family friends and the staff in the home who had cared for his father in his last years. He kept an eye on Gillian and Emily out of the corner of his eye. They stuck together, the two American's in the room.

**PJ**

"So are you ok?" Gillian asked as Cal put the light out. They settled in the middle of the bed, arms around each other.

"Yeah, luv, I'm all right." Cal paused. "How about you? You seemed upset today."

"Combination of hormones and circumstances."

"Fair enough." Cal rubbed her back. Gillian slipped a hand under his t-shirt. Cal shot on to his back. "Bloody hell woman! Your hands are freezin'!"

"That's why I'm trying to warm them up."

Cal rolled towards her again and she replaced her fingers against his chest and while they were still icy cold, after a moment they didn't seem so bad. She started caressing his skin and they didn't feel bad at all. "Still interested in a road trip tomorrow?"

"If you tell me where we're going?"

"Nope. It's a surprise." Cal paused for effect. "In or out?"

"Hmm, that's what you said last night," Gillian quipped.

Cal chuckled.

"In," Gillian answered.

"That's what _you_ said last night," Cal teased.

Gillian laughed, pulled at the hair on his chest gently. He winced. "Stop it," she told him with a light warning. "Don't start something you can't finish."

**PJ**

Just as Gillian hadn't needed or even wanted Cal to come with her when she went for her last blood test, the test that had confirmed that she wasn't pregnant; Gillian was going for an ultrasound on her own too. It was a fifteen minute, quick in and out, to check to see if she was close to ovulation. The hormones she had been taking for the last seven days stimulated ovarian activity and were also supposed to help optimise the number of ovum retrieved. This scan would determine when the retrieval would take place.

It sounded terrible, but Gillian had been glad for the distraction of William's funeral. It gave her the chance to worry about Cal and focus on him, instead of the other way around. She'd told him she didn't want to hope, but what she meant was, she didn't want the pressure. Intentional or not, Cal was putting her under pressure. She was putting herself under pressure. If this didn't work...

The technician doing Gillian's scan tended to 'hmm' to himself. At first Gillian thought it required a response. After five minutes of set up and 'hmming' Gillian kept her mouth shut. She wasn't really in the mood for making small talk anyway. The technician jotted down a few notes and after Gillian had cleaned her stomach off she was handed the paper. Then she went down the hall to meet with Doctor Williams, the man taking her through the IVF treatments. She gave him the paper. He perused it, consulted her files, made a decision.

"We'll do the retrieval on Thursday."

Gillian felt her heart flutter in nerves.

"What time suits you?"

**PJ**

"I don't know any docta who would actually instruct his patient to have sex the night before a procedure."

"What?" Gillian asked a mixture of confused and annoyed. She had her hands down his pants and her tongue in his ear.

"I should really shake his hand and thank him."

Gillian squirmed beneath him, withdrew her tongue and looked up at him. "It's supposed to create a better environment in my uterus."

"So the theory goes," Cal mused. "But really, how does the good docta justify that?"

Gillian's hands went still.

"What are you stoppin' for?" Cal complained, connecting his blue eyes with hers.

"Remember when I said I liked that you've taken up talking to me while we're having sex?"

Cal gave her a 'pleased school boy' grin.

"This is not what I had in mind," Gillian told him pointedly.

Cal dropped his head to kiss her deeply. "I was just thinkin' aloud."

"Don't," Gillian whispered.

Cal kissed her deeply again, felt her fingers tighten around him. "Wanna know what else I'm thinkin' about?"

"Depends what it is," Gillian murmured, her breath becoming more pronounced.

Cal kissed her again, teasing her with his tongue, then he dropped his lips to her throat. "I'm thinkin' about how utterly sexy you are."

"Sexy huh?"

"You know, I spend half my day thinkin' about havin' sex with you?"

Gillian gave a short laugh of disbelief. "Half your day?"

"You strut around in those figa huggin' dresses, them sexy heels. Drives me insane if I let it." Cal found her ear, took the lobe in his mouth, bit it lightly. He felt Gillian buck underneath him. He was leaning down over her quite closely. Close enough to feel the heat coming off her body. "And when you sit and your skirt rides up your thigh, ohhh god, just the thought of what you're wearin' underneath," Cal murmured right in her ear, letting his breath caress her skin.

Gillian's hands shifted to the buttons on his shirt. "You notice huh?" She prompted.

Cal finished tracing a pattern under ear. "Darlin' it's hard not to notice you. I've always noticed."

"Always?" Gillian asked in a small voice. She reached the top of his shirt and pushed it back from his shoulders. Cal's hands were still under her backside and he seemed to have no intention of undressing her or himself.

"Always," Cal affirmed. He kissed his way along her jaw back to her mouth, stole her breath away for a moment. He felt her hands go still, fingers gripping his arms slightly, distracted and focussed on him.

"Cal," Gillian murmured his name.

"Yes darlin'?" Cal answered innocently. He was having far too much fun with this. They had always been stunning in bed together. He had been able to read her reactions to the things he did, but what he hadn't counted on was just how much she responded to his words. He should have known better. He had a psychology doctorate and he was an experienced lover. Why he hadn't been compelled to engage her brain while in the sack before, he didn't know. Maybe because he hadn't wanted her in his head at the same time. He should really go around and shake Doctor Wu's hand while he was at it, because this just got better.

"Take me to bed," Gillian finished.

Cal nipped at her collarbone, didn't answer.

"Please?"

"So polite," Cal noted softly. "But not yet. I'm still playin'."

Gillian groaned. It almost made Cal change his mind.

"Now where was I?" Cal leaned in again, trailed kisses lower around her collarbone. She still had a shirt on. He kissed until he reached material, and then tried burrowing under it with his nose. It elicited a giggle from Gillian.

"Want some help?"

"I got it," Cal told her. He slipped his right hand around her hip, under the bottom of the material and swiftly up her torso to her breast. He stopped all movement stunned. "You're not wearin' a bra."

Gillian gave him a smug smile from her position on the couch, on her back beneath him. "Nope." Her blue eyes glinted.

Cal was suddenly uncomfortably hard. "Bloody hell," Cal withdrew both hands from her and reached for the button on his jeans. "Have you been walkin' around with no bra on all day?"

"What do you think?" Gillian answered in a husky voice. Her hands were moving again, smoothing down his chest.

"I don't know what to think," Cal answered honestly. He hadn't noticed. And how could that be? He often stared very hard at her chest. She was good at this talking game too. "I think if it's true you're very naughty."

Gillian giggled. "I kinda like that idea."

"That you're naughty?"

"Uh huh," Gillian fixed him with an expression of sheer seduction. She pulled is head down to kiss him. Cal's hand found its way under her shirt again to her breast. "How naughty do you want me to be?" Gillian whispered in his ear.

"Oh god," Cal groaned while thinking he was in a good space in his life if he and his wife were discovering new ways to turn up the heat, even when they weren't bored with the old ways yet. Everything with Gillian was just better.


	7. Chapter 7

Just like last time, the egg retrieval procedure went well. The doctor gave Gillian a different kind of drug, which made her less dozy and so she was more aware of what went on. She didn't feel any extreme pain once again, but it was uncomfortable enough for her to grip Cal's hand tightly. She could see the worry etched on his face and occasionally she gave his fingers an extra double squeeze, a silent signal, asking if he was ok. He gave a slight smile in response, double pumped in return. The truth was, they were both tense. There was so much riding on this procedure. If she had ovulated and there were no eggs, it was over. If the eggs hadn't matured properly, it was over. If none had matured, it was over. If only a few had matured, then their odds went down even further. Their odds were already way down. Age and medical history stuck them in the thirteen percent success rate. If they had tried this even six years ago, they would have been in the fifty percent success rate. Gillian tried not to think about that.

After a short rest Cal took Gillian home. He didn't want to go back to work and leave her but she insisted she was fine. She wasn't going to run a marathon but she was allowed to carry out her day. She went food shopping, and then a little clothes shopping. She found a cute pair of heels. She had dinner on the table by the time Cal came home, a beer ready in her hand. And she tried not to think about having a baby.

**PJ**

Cal swigged his beer. He studied the kitchen door, waiting for Gillian to come in. On the counter in front of him was a bottle of bourbon, his particular brand of poison. He had turned Gillian on to it the year after they had met. She'd found him in a pub, drowning his sorrows. To his great surprise she'd ordered one of whatever he was drinking and downed it in one large gulp. Gillian Foster could hold her liquor. He'd found out later her father was an alcoholic. She'd inherited his ability to be able to drink copiously. She could just about match Cal drink for drink. But she was also too aware of what else she could have inherited from him. And so she curbed her drinking. She brought it out only on the odd occasion. Cal loved his newly discovered drinking buddy. Too bad he couldn't coax her to drink with him more often. Too bad he respected her determination and self control. Too bad the hangover was a complete bitch.

Gillian finally appeared through the doorway. When she saw him, she smiled. Cal took another mouthful of beer. "How's Kate doin'?" He asked politely, having to remember if she'd told him she was having a drink after work with her sister-in-law, or a friend of hers.

"She's good."

So Cal was right, and he remembered the rest of the story now. Kate was feeling claustrophobic about being a full time mother. Something about her needing to get out with a girl-friend for the evening.

"What is that?" Gillian looked at the bottle of bourbon.

Cal eyed it too, as if he wasn't really sure what he was looking at or how it had gotten there. He was hoping to entice his drinking buddy to come out and play. "Looks like bourbon," he responded.

"And what's it for?" Gillian asked putting her purse down on the breakfast bar, keys on the counter beside it.

"Chase-a."

"Pretty big chaser," Gillian noted lightly.

"Might share," Cal noted. He was in a bad mood. A combination of work and worrying about the IVF. For tonight he wanted to lose himself while they had a window of two days before the embryos would go back where they came from. He wanted to pretend Gillian Lightman was really still a Foster, simply his best friend, who would get drunk with him when he felt at his worst, not his wife, who was riding the emotional rollercoaster with him.

Gillian reached out a slender finger and picked at the label, as if she was considering the liquid trouble inside the bottle. "How far behind am I?" She asked with a dangerous glint in her eye.

Cal picked up the bottle and poured two fingers in a glass. He finished his beer. Gillian picked up her drink and swallowed it back. She gave a slight grimace as she put the glass back down on the counter. "Feelin' destructive luv?" Cal asked thickly, pouring her another one. She nodded. Swallowed the alcohol back again, challenged him with steely blue eyes to question her about it. Damn but Cal was good at reading her mood. She had woken up pissy but she had tried to hide it all day.

Cal poured another generous nip. Drinking like this was not a good idea. He shouldn't turn to alcohol when things in his life took a turn for the worse. He shouldn't entice Gillian to do the same. They shouldn't be doing double shots of bourbon on empty stomachs to get pissed as fast as possible. Mother's shouldn't strangle their own children to death, bury the bodies under their houses and then lie to the police and file missing person's reports. Some people shouldn't be allowed to be parents. Why was it good people like Gillian struggled and bad people like Maniah Kessler popped out an entire litter?

Cal watched as Gillian's cheeks turned pink. He could feel the heat on his own face but knew they wouldn't colour. His body was used to the rush of alcohol. He suggested they go into the living room. He carried the bourbon; they each took their own glass. Cal was surprised how steady he felt on his feet. It was taking longer for the alcohol to kick in than he thought. Gillian slipped her heels off and tucked her feet under her butt as she positioned on the couch. "What are we drinking to?" She asked, swirling her next shot around the glass.

"Whateva you want."

"How about the end of a really long work day?"

Cal drank. Gillian mimicked. Cal poured some more.

"How about, to Mrs Kessla? Single handedly givin' mutha's a bad name across the globe," Cal's words slurred slightly. Oh, good, it was kicking in.

Gillian drank. Cal mimicked. Cal poured some more.

"How about to doctor's who take a bucket load of money and return empty promises?" Gillian suggested, her eyes dark with an anger that would have scared a sober Cal.

Cal drank. It was hard to swallow. He hated that look in her eye. It made him want to smack it off her face.

Gillian drank too. Her face set in a glare. Waves of anger and distaste and bitterness rolling off of her. Cal poured another.

"How about to this being the last time we do this?"

"Fair enough," Cal murmured and tilted his head back again.

**PJ**

The next morning was full of dry mouths, searing light, pounding heads and coffee for breakfast. As hangover's went, it wasn't the mother load. Cal had certainly experienced worse. As for black outs, the last thing he remembered was noticing the bottle was almost half gone. They had gone to bed eventually, or somewhere along the line, and must have really gone at it, because Cal found an impressive scratch down the front of his shoulder, fingernail width in nature. A lamp had been knocked off Gillian's side of the bed, everything off Cal's side. Their clothes were strewn around the room, the buttons popped off Gillian's shirt, the collar of Cal's torn. The bed had bruised the wall and the bed sheets were in the biggest knot Cal had ever seen in his life.

Gillian was right. That had to be the last time they did that.

**PJ**

Two days later in the process meant the eggs went back. Except this time they contained half of Cal's DNA and they were what the doctor called 'pre-embryos'; an egg and sperm fertilisation divided into four cells. Four cells big. Four of them in total. That was all they had. That, and more, though this time different, hormone shots to get them to stick to the uterine wall. Cal wondered if he could multiply the four by four and say they had sixteen chances of getting a baby at the end of it, but he doubted it very much. Even his mind wouldn't let that fly. Four chances. Thirteen percent. Not great odds. No wonder Gillian didn't want to talk about it. It was depressing.

Her fingers gave a double squeeze around Cal's and he squeezed back instantaneously. She had to rest for an hour before she was allowed to go home, or she had argued, back to work. She worried about missing too much work. As long as she stayed behind her desk, was Cal's counter argument. She had agreed. Cal planned on making sure she stuck to it or was going to forcibly remove her to the house.

Gillian had her eyes closed and she looked mostly peaceful, except to Cal's trained eye he saw the flicker of her eyes thinking, the crease of worry in her forehead, the tension held in her shoulders. Cal knew those signs because he knew her so well. Gillian carried her tension in her shoulders. That was her thing. And when she worried, it creased the little spot between her eyebrows.

"Are you studying me?" She asked suddenly.

Cal chuckled. "What else did you think I would be doin'?"

Gillian sighed and opened her eyes. Blue struck blue in a very intense way. There it was, all the things they weren't saying, the anxiety, the fear, a little spark of hope, the dampener for the hope. They didn't say anything else. They didn't need to. Cal was struck with one of those moments of complete awe. Here was a woman who was just about perfect in every way and she wanted to be with him. She was going through all of this, so she could have a baby _with him_. Cal let his expression soften and Gillian's gave a slight smile in response. Neat. He could even communicate with her without having to say a word.

**PJ**

Gillian hooked her leg around Cal's and pushed up with her arms and successfully turned him over on to his back. She raked her fingers down his chest, at the absolute correct pressure. Just the way he liked it. She got a moan for her effort and, encouraged, kept going until she reached his hips.

"I tell you what, this Docta Williams betta deliva, because three weeks of abstinence is goin' to be bloody hell."

Gillian giggled, let her teeth graze around his belly button. The dark hair from his snail trail was coarse against her lips.

"And you're not helpin'," Cal grumbled.

Gillian made her way up his body again. She kissed his lips this time, felt his clear enthusiasm in the way he tilted his head, the pressure of his mouth against hers, the grip of his hands. She broke away. "He said I had to abstain from sex," Gillian threw out words between kisses. She reached his ear. "He said nothing about not allowing me do naughty things to you."

Cal groaned again. "I love it when you say naughty. I think it's the accent."

Gillian giggled again while she nipped at his neck. His skin was hot. And he smelt heavenly.

"Tell me about the naughty things you're gonna do."

"Hmm," Gillian pretended to think while she shifted her hands down between them, finding the catch of his nice, black work trousers.

Cal's cell phone suddenly rang. They both turned to look at it.

"If that's Reynolds, ignore it," Cal told her.

Gillian leaned across the mattress to reach it.

"Actually, just ignore it."

Gillian looked at the name on the screen. "It's Zoe," she said surprised.

"Definitely ignore it."

Gillian straightened up so she was sitting on his stomach. "Don't be rude." She offered him the still ringing phone. Cal lay back and watched her impassively. That was his answer. "Might be important," Gillian tried.

Cal took the phone but he looked reluctant. "All right. But you hold that thought." A micro-pause. "That one right there," he pointed a finger. "When I hang up, we're doin' that."

Gillian laughed and slid off of him. She lay back against the pillows.

"Yeah?" Cal answered. A pause. "Um, I dunno luv? Is it a good time to talk?" He looked over at Gillian. She gave him a slightly amused expression, still left over from the last comment he directed at her. "What about our darlin' daughta?" Cal looked up at the ceiling. He sat up suddenly. "I don't know anythin' about him. What do you know about him?"

Gillian took that as her cue to leave the room. She didn't want to listen in on a conversation with his ex-wife at the best of times but something in Cal's tone told her it was an exclusively mother/father issue to work out. She felt a longing for being able to share that with him too one day (although preferably not over the phone, because she didn't exactly get excited about divorce if it was in their future) and then shut it down. It was far too soon to let those thoughts creep in.

Cal watched the bedroom door shut silently and was finally able to focus on the conversation. "So why are you worried?"  
"He's a lot older than she is Cal and he's in a position of authority."

"Well what does he do then?" Cal hated to play catch up.

"He's a teacher's assistant."

"Hardly authoritative," Cal snubbed. "Has she talked to you about him? What's his name again?"

"Ajay."

"She tell you about this bloke Ajay?"

"No she didn't mention him directly. She just suddenly brought it up."

"So why are you callin' me?"

"I'm worried."

"Well I can hear that. What are you worried about specifically?"

Zoe sighed. "A few things. She's cut classes."

"We all did that in college."

"You more than others."

Cal ignored the jibe.

"This is more than she normally does."

"And?"

"She's been partying harder."

"Drugs?"

"Not that I can tell. But certainly drinking a lot."

"How do you know all this? You got spies up there or somethin'?"

"I call her, she talks to me."

"She doesn't talk to me."

"I'm her mother, Cal. She talks to me as a friend."

"Well I'm her fatha. I thought we were friends."

"It's a mother daughter thing, not a slight against you." Zoe sounded slightly patronising.

"So what was the point of this phone call?" Cal asked, hurt that Emily didn't tell him what she was really up to in Boston, pissed that Zoe could hold that against him, stung by the tone of her voice, and thinking about Gillian. Where had she gone?

"I was wondering if you could talk to her."

"About the boyfriend?"

"Yes."

Cal couldn't believe he was about to say this but: "Do we know for sure that he's the influence?"

"I'd say so. She was being responsible until he came along."

Cal suddenly grinned. Talk about a thin line of logic. The real reason for the phone call? Hard to tell. She could be attempting to suddenly take a leap into prying into his life, or she could just be lonely. Either way, it was about Zoe first and foremost, probably Emily a distant second. "Well you know Zo, I'll think about mentionin' it next time I talk to her."

He wasn't.

"Thanks Cal."

"All right. Talk to you late-a." He hung up. Ah bless her. She missed him. Now to go and find the other important lady of his life. He believed they were in the middle of a date. There were promises still hanging in the air. Cal scooted across the mattress, dumping his phone back on the bedside table.

It was still early in the evening but the house was quiet. Cal thought she would be in the living room but it was empty. The lights were on but no one there. Cal walked through the dining room to the kitchen. Both rooms were empty and dark. He felt a little stab of... fear? Worry? Concern? Concern, Cal settled on. The house wasn't overly large. She couldn't do a complete disappearing act on him, but he couldn't shift a feeling that something wasn't right. He turned back, stopped at the top of the hallway, considered his options. Guest/Emily's room? The study? Laundry? Garage? Then he noticed a light on in the main bathroom. What was she doing in there? Maybe she hadn't wanted to cut through the bedroom to the master bathroom while he was on the phone. She was sweet; sometimes unnecessarily so. She could have used her own bathroom...

Cal approached quietly, bare feet padding tenderly on soft carpet. He was going to knock loudly then holler something obnoxious through the closed door. But he suddenly froze still. He'd heard a sob. A definite sob. Not a nice delicate sucking of air through tears, but the gut wrenching sound of a heart breaking. Cal felt his chest seize into palpitations. It was like getting the first shot of adrenaline without out the follow up bang, bang, bang. It was like firing out of the starting blocks only to never run the race.

He opened the door in a hurry, his heart in his throat, scared beyond seeing reason. He didn't know what he expected to find, maybe her on the floor, in pain or something, like she had slipped, maybe pooling blood, something that would not warrant the level of emotion he could hear in her tears. She was on the floor behind the door, just sitting there like she had finally given up. Cal could think of no other way to describe how she looked right then. She looked up at him, surprised by him bursting into the room suddenly, but then absolutely distraught. She looked crushed beyond defeated.

Her face was shiny and soaked with tears. Her cheeks were red, her ears were red, her eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. She looked like hell and vulnerability battling it out. Cal stood for a second, mouth agape, stunned at what he was seeing, not comprehending. And then suddenly it hit him like a slap across the face. His cheeks stung as if they had literally been struck. He was on the floor in the next second, reacting on instinct. She tried to bully him away but he was grateful for being physically stronger than she was. He put his arms around her, catching her up in an awkward embrace, but holding on to her tightly all the same. He half knew what was so gutting but the thought was on the edge of his brain. Until he confronted it head long it was happy to hide.

Gillian sobbed again, spluttering saliva, snot and tears into his bare shoulder. She gulped for air through a blocked nose and constricted throat. Cal could feel her entire body convulse as several guttural, anguished cries forced their way out of her. He had never, in his life, seen someone so grief stricken. It was like someone had physically ripped her heart out of her. Cal knew, he just knew, she would only react like this to one thing. But still, the question stuck in his throat. He wouldn't voice it. He didn't want to. And then he realised he couldn't. This throat was blocked up by his own sorrow. His own tears were on his cheeks. They had gotten so close. Just three more days and she would have gone for the blood test and then maybe, just maybe, things might have been different.

Cal rocked her back and forth, holding his arms tightly against her, rubbing his hands up and down her back, not saying a word in comfort, not being able to. His back ached so he ignored it. Gillian cried in his ear, a terrible keening sound that made Cal want to block his ears and drive off a cliff. He hated himself for doing this to her. He hated that he had pushed her. That he had made his beautiful, sweet Gillian scream out her frustration and anger and sorrow to the bathroom wall. It just wasn't right. He wanted her to stop. He wanted to turn the clock back. He wanted more, than any other time, to be able to take his words back. He had been confident, he was always confident, about bloody everything, but she had been doubtful and he wished he had listened to her.

It felt like an unreal amount of time that they sat there but later as Cal tucked her into bed and glanced at the clock it had only been twenty minutes. She wouldn't look at him. Or maybe she couldn't. She was quieter now, dazed, possibly in shock. Cal crept under the covers next to her, hesitating, wanting to be sure that she wanted him there. He searched her face again and again for any signs of resentment. Resentment spelt the instant death of their marriage. He was scared, for the first time in a long time. Just scared.

Once Cal had settled Gillian moved into his arms, forcing them apart to make space for herself against his chest. Her face found its natural resting place in the crook of his neck. Cal held her quite willingly. After awhile she was crying again. Cal could feel the wetness trickling down his throat. "I'm sorry," he murmured, the first words spoken between them since she had snuck out of their room earlier to give him space to talk to his ex-wife. "I'm so sorry," he repeated in a whisper. She cried harder. Cal felt worse but he couldn't stop himself. He said it over and over as he rubbed her back and she cried and eventually they both fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Gillian woke to the sound of rain on the roof. It was falling hard enough to tap against the glass of the bedroom window. The covers were pulled up around her head so she was almost completely encompassed. There was enough space for her face to show, so she could breathe. She used to sleep like that as a child, encasing herself against the horrors of the world: growing up, knowing her childhood was receding behind her, that one day she would be all grown up, a big girl, with a daughter of her own. Hopefully. It was mostly protection against her father's drinking.

Gillian shifted slightly. It was hard to tell exactly where she was. The pillow smelt like Cal's shampoo so maybe she was on his side of the bed. The room seemed dark enough for her to roll over and ignore it. It was hard to orientate herself in the room based on the angle of the light anyway. She snuggled lower into the covers, feeling safe and untouchable, comforted and warm. She was going to indulge in a sleep in. She felt she more than deserved it. The horror danced on the edge of her mind, in her blind spot, but she refused to acknowledge it. For now she was going to pretend it was Saturday, not Friday, and she was fine and everything was normal and she was allowed to drift back to sleep while she listened to the rain rage at the house.

**PJ**

Gillian woke again, this time more alert. Her mind was active before she could convince it to try sleeping a little longer. Her body felt heavy as she turned onto her back in the same space, so she wouldn't find any cold mattress. She suddenly got a sense she was alone. She shifted one arm up and out of her cocoon and pushed the covers back from her face. The room was lighter and it was devoid of her husband and it was no longer raining. Gillian sat up and checked the clock. It was late in the morning. It was then she felt the aftermath of crying herself to sleep. Her eyes were painful, her skin felt dry, her mouth dehydrated. Her head ached a little. It almost felt like being hung over. But without the fun of drinking the night before.

Desperate for the toilet, Gillian clambered out from under the covers. It was only when she was seated that she fully remembered and it struck her like a hard blow to the sternum. She had her period. She wasn't pregnant. Again. Still.

It felt like she had dived under water for a moment. Everything went very quiet. She was aware of how empty her home seemed. Washing her hands quickly, Gillian moved through the house looking for Cal. He was gone. Car keys were missing, his favourite sports coat from next to the door. So he had gone out... to work? And left her there alone? Gillian didn't know how she felt about that. Then she found the post-it note stamped to the coffee pot.

**At work. Didn't want to wake you. Won't be long.**

With no reference to pinpoint when Cal had actually left, Gillian wondered what constituted as being 'long'. She poured a cup of coffee and took it to sit in the bay windows of the kitchen. The rain had let up slightly, but not stopped after all, so that it was a constant but far less aggressive drizzle. Gillian realised she hadn't exactly checked in with Cal about how he was feeling last night. She had been a bit preoccupied, but still, now that she thought about it, they hadn't talked. Through her own grief she had felt his; not just in his tears, but the way he held her, the way his voice had sounded when they were in bed.

The coffee tasted funny. Gillian only managed a few mouthfuls before deciding she wasn't going to be able to tolerate it. She tried Cal's phone but it went straight to voicemail. So whatever he was doing at work, he was busy. She had a shower, got dressed slowly, started to physically feel better. She washed the dry tears from her face and felt refreshed. She would get through this disappointment just like the last time. But what she really wanted right now was her husband. She tried his cell again and it rang for a long time before going to voicemail. She listened to his message, just to hear his voice. Then she dialled their company's number. She asked for Cal. She was told Cal wasn't there.

"Do you know where he went?"

"He said he was going home," Heidi answered. She didn't sound like she recognised Gillian's voice and Gillian was grateful for that.

"How long ago did he leave?"

"About an hour," Heidi sounded thoughtful.

Gillian thanked the young woman and hung up. So he had been gone for more than an hour. She dialled his number again. It rang and rang and rang and rang and finally the voicemail picked it up. Gillian disconnected. He might be driving. That was ok. She could find something to do, something that might keep her mind occupied long enough. Gillian wandered aimlessly through the house. She couldn't find anything to do. She went down to the mailbox but there was nothing but a pamphlet about a neighbourhood watch group. She binned it. She tidied the kitchen, then cleaned it. Then she tried Cal again. His phone rang and rang and rang and rang and went to voicemail. Now it had been over two hours. And she was starting to worry. Cal tended to go AWOL. But not for over two hours.

Gillian sat in the living room. It wasn't time to start losing it. He was probably busy with something and that was why he wasn't answering. The voice in the back of her mind suggested he had been hurt and couldn't get to the phone but Gillian tried closing a door in its face. She didn't want to have to deal with the thought of him hurt somewhere. Not right now. She didn't want to have to deal with two tragedies at once. She felt a pang of tears and fought them back. Her chest ached as she held her breath. Once the threat of tears was under control she dialled Cal's number again. Voicemail.

Gillian realised she hadn't eaten yet and took the phone back to the kitchen. She checked the fridge. Nothing appealed. She wasn't even sure she was hungry. But at least it would occupy her mind. She made a sandwich, taking time to slice tomatoes and cucumbers and two different types of cheese. Once it was made she eyed the phone, thought about calling Cal again, decided she would give him time. He might be talking to a client or witness or stuck in traffic or at the market or a number of plausible explanations.

Gillian took her sandwich to the bay windows. The rain had dried up. She watched dark grey clouds swarming sickeningly overhead. She couldn't remember what the weather report had been the night before. Were they due for a storm? The sandwich was bland, even with mustard and mayonnaise. Gillian ate half of it, feeling queasy. She could feel the phone staring at her. And then a thought occurred to her. She quickly went back to the bedroom, sandwich abandoned on the kitchen bench. Her cell phone was beside the bed. She unlocked the key pad. No messages, txts, missed calls. Disappointment soared through her. She checked the time in the right hand corner of the screen. It had been three hours now. She felt sick.

Back in the kitchen she dialled Cal's number again, convinced now that something had happened. She was too choked up to leave a message and she noticed her hand shook slightly as she held the receiver. If he was lying in a ditch somewhere it wouldn't matter much anyway. If he could call her back, she was sure he would have called hours ago. She thought about trying hospitals. Then wondered if she was still being paranoid. Surely someone would have called her if there had been an accident?

The sandwich glared at her from the end of the bench. Gillian binned it. She was fretting now and she couldn't stop it. Where was he? Why wasn't he answering his phone? Was he ok? What was she going to do if he wasn't ok? She wasn't even sure she knew where to start looking. At what point was she going to start looking? She made up her mind to call Ben if Cal wasn't home within the next three hours. Surely six hours warranted phone calls to friends?

Then Gillian heard a sound that made her stomach knock into her diaphragm. The garage door was going up. She left the back window where she had been worrying a fingernail and made her way through the house quickly. She encountered Cal coming through the internal garage door. She slapped him across the cheek.

**PJ**

"Ow!" Cal staggered slightly, not from the force of it; he'd been smacked by her harder than that before, but from the shock of it. His hand instinctively went to his stinging cheek. "What was that for?"

"You didn't answer your phone. I've been worried sick!" She choked at him and then her arms were around his neck and she was crying into his shoulder.

It took Cal a second to get his bearings. He put his arms around her back and held her tightly, feeling his heart breaking at the sound of her sobs. He could feel her tears soaking in to his shirt and still he held on, not sure what to do or say. He just held her. She pulled back a moment later, her blue eyes swimming behind grief. "You didn't answer your phone. Where were you?" She demanded.

"I had to go in to work."

"I called there. They said you had left. Three hours ago."

Cal was still bewildered at the level of emotion she was throwing at him. "I drove aimlessly for a while and then I found myself at the riva."

"For three hours?"

"I lost track of time. I'm sorry."

Gillian sniffed impolitely. "You didn't answer your phone."

"I left it in the car. I didn't hear it. I didn't think to check it," Cal reached up to wipe her cheeks dry with his fingers. It took many gentle strokes. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Don't ever do that again," Gillian told him, her fingers gripping his arms tightly, her blue eyes bored into his.

"I'm sorry," Cal repeated softly.

Gillian pulled him into a hug again and Cal held her again. He kissed the side of her head and rubbed her back. After a moment he pulled away slightly. "Come and sit with me," he requested gently. He shifted her physically away from him and took her hand and guided her into the living room. The room had gotten dark with the impending second round of rain clouds so he switched on a lamp as they circled around the couch. He sat, pulled her down almost on top of him, made sure she was caught up in his arms, her legs over his lap. "Talk to me," he said in a soft voice.

"I don't want to talk about it," Gillian answered almost immediately, as if she had been waiting for him to ask. "Not yet. Ok? I just need some time to process it." Cal watched her. "I promise we'll talk. But not today." It seemed like the truth. Tears welled up in her eyes again. "And I'm sorry I slapped you."

Cal gave a half smile. "You've done worse damage than that. You use your girly arms today?" The comment elicited a half laugh, half sob. He reached up and wiped more tears away. "Should have invested in some tissues while I was out."

Another half laugh, half sob. "I can't stop crying! I'm sorry."

"Stop apologisin' luv. You don't need to apologise to me. Your heart's breakin'. I can see it all ova your face."

Gillian sniffled.

"Feel free to cry on this shoulda any time you need. That's what I'm here for."

Gillian gave a slight nod and then ducked her head, pressing her face in to the crook of his neck. Cal circled his arms around her instinctively. This was nice. And yet so shit at the same time.

**PJ**

"Where's Gillian?" Reynolds asked.

"She's at the docta's," Cal responded watching the suspect intently. He saw Ria push out from her desk out of the corner of his eye.

"Is she all right?" Ria asked turning to face him.

"All right, everybody calm down!" Cal told the silent room, as if they were in fact all clamouring him at once. He saw the open surprise on Ben and Ria's faces. He kept his amusement strictly off his face. "She'll be here in a minute. In the meantime, do you think maybe we could get on with it?" He indicated the interview room. He'd never been made to wait before.

"I thought we were waiting for Gillian so she could..." Ben suddenly trailed off.

"What?" Cal pounced on him. He felt like he was warming up for a race. "She could do what?" He got closer. "Keep tabs on me?" A flicker of a yes. Cal felt triumphant. He still had it. Even if Gillian _did_ keep tabs on him and he listened to her more than he used to. Didn't stop him from messing with his staff a little bit.

"I thought she was going to do the psyche analysis while you talked to Ms Pino?" Ria tried rescuing Ben. Admirable. But that wouldn't stop Cal if he put his mind to it.

"We have survived without her on occasion. There is anotha psychologist in the room," Cal pointed out. He noticed no one moved. A split second later he heard the door open.

"There's another psychologist in the room?" Gillian's voice was dubious but light. Teasing mode. Good. She was in a good mood. That meant whoever had stuck her with a needle hadn't messed around bruising her arm.

Cal spun around. "All right darlin'? That would be me. Got a doctorate and all."

"Really?" She crossed to Ria who was holding out a clipboard. "I thought you just printed that off a website in the Philippines."

Reynolds chuckled. Gillian shot Cal an amused grin. Cal over exaggerated a smile.

"Can we get on with his now?" Ben asked, moving towards the interrogation room door.

"That's what I said!" Cal barrelled past him.

Ms Pino. Delicate creature to unfold. Troubled childhood, unhappy existence, mental age of sixteen. That was Gillian's opinion before they had started the interview. Ms Pino had a nasty habit of pilfering things that weren't hers. And this time she might have seen something she shouldn't have. But she denied it. Or at least tried.


	9. Chapter 9

Cal stuck a carrot with a knife. Still hard in the centre. He turned to the Thai green curry on the stove and gave it a stir with a wooden spoon. He turned down the heat and moved over to the fresh coriander on his chopping board. He loved to cook. And with a guinea pig far more willing than Emily had been, Cal's repertoire had expanded. Gillian shopped for all kinds of fresh ingredients. She had always taken the time to put together good food. She had taught Cal a thing or two in the kitchen. Food was definitely one of the ways to Gillian's heart.

Three days ago Cal would have thought one of the other way's to Gillian's heart was through children; children of her own. But after they had talked and she explained that she had made her peace with not having children, she had Cal convinced she really was all right. She had exhausted all her options. It might have taken a few days to get over, but she was on the path to recovery. Cal read her shamelessly but it was the truth. She bounced back, just like every other time. The doctor's appointment this evening was just a formality to get the results back from the blood test. Except they already knew what the results were. That's why Cal was making an extra effort with dinner. He wanted to do something nice for her. Just in case she did come home blue. The blood test was the last of the IVF loose ends. And then it would be over.

"Cal?"

"Kitchen!" He called back. Perfect timing. Dinner was five minutes away. He had a glass of wine ready for her when she came into the room. Except she looked pale, he could see it straight away. He had spent hours studying that face. He knew it inside and out. He knew when there was something on her mind. "What's wrong?" He approached quickly, stood too close.

"You're not going to believe this."

"I will if you get the words out."

She gave him an impatient glare. "If you stop talking I'll tell you."

"Fine. Go. I'm all ears."

A pause.

"I'm pregnant." She gave a flicker of a smile.

"Come again?" Cal felt his stomach go hollow with shock.

"I'm pregnant," Gillian said again. Cal saw how her chin tilted up slightly as she said the words. Pride. Her blue eyes were already shining.

"How can that be?" Cal put the glass of wine down on the nearest solid surface. "Cos you got your period."

"Doctor Williams said sometimes in the early stages of pregnancy there's a light period."

Cal felt stunned but the news sifted through his mind pretty quickly. He felt his own chest puff out in pride. He grinned. Gillian suddenly gave a brilliant smile. He pulled her into a hug, feeling his stomach seize up in excitement. Gillian kissed him lightly.

"I don't know what to say," Cal noted, hearing how his own voice sounded tight with excited emotion. He struggled for words for a moment and Gillian laughed lightly.

She kissed him again. "Exactly how I feel."

"We should celebrate!" Cal suddenly announced.

"Sure," Gillian's smile was easy and warm and relaxed for the first time in months.

"Obviously not with alcohol," Cal grinned. When he'd found out Zoe was pregnant with Emily he hadn't felt this stupidly happy. Probably because she had been a surprise, unexpected, unplanned, and this baby was most definitely none of the above. Aside from the surprise part. Sort of. "Chocolate milk," he decided and moved back into the kitchen proper. He got two glasses from the cupboard, milk from the fridge and drinking chocolate from next to the kettle. He heaped a teaspoon into one glass, two in the other and poured milk. He whipped the powder through the milk expertly.

"You've done that before," Gillian noted, perching at the breakfast bar.

"This is betta than usin' chocolate sauce," he told her. He handed over her drink, the one with double the amount of chocolate. "Cheers luv." Gillian raised her glass. "To us havin' a family togetha and you bein' a mum."

"Cheers," Gillian repeated. She sipped her milk. "Oh, you're right. So much better than chocolate sauce."

Cal grinned and took a mouthful of his. "Now, are you hungry? Because dinna is ready."

Gillian smiled another easy smile that made Cal's heart feel funny. She looked so genuinely happy, so peaceful. He hoped this pregnancy stuck, excuse the pun.

"I could eat," she responded in a light tone.

**PJ**

"Is this really hapennin', cos it seems so very surreal?"

"I've been assured it really is happening," Gillian responded in a low voice, almost a whisper.

For once, Cal had initiated conversation in the darkened bedroom. While he would have liked to celebrate the news of the pregnancy in a much more physical way, they were still on the three week abstinence rule. Uterine contractions could expel the pre-embryo. And he was not up for taking those kinds of chances.

"But it does feel surreal," Gillian agreed.

"How are you feelin'?"

"How I normally feel."

"I meant emotionally."

"Oh." A pause. "I don't know. I'm not sure it's sunk in yet."

"Me eith-a," Cal sighed. He lifted his head slightly off the pillow. "What are you doin' all the way ova there?"

"Sorry," Gillian huffed good-naturedly. She shifted from her side of the bed so she was flush against his chest, her arm over his abdomen.

A fleeting thought had Cal in doubts. She might be pregnant now, but they both knew that didn't always last. She had a history of miscarriage. He wondered if they should have curbed any and all celebrations until after the three month mark. She had seemed so happy, telling him the news and the excitement he had felt was almost painful in its desire to get out. _And_, he could argue, they had needed some good news. Plus, he could concede, doubts were normal. He just wasn't going to let them get the better of him. Crippling doubts were depression, and he wasn't going there anymore. He kissed the top of his wife's head.

"Good night darlin'."

"Night Cal," Gillian murmured softly in response.

**PJ**

Gillian strolled into Cal's office. "Prepare yourself, it is family obligation time."

He was watching footage projected on the wall, peering at it intently with the sound off, fidgeting a pen in his hand. "Huh?" He turned to her.

Gillian came to a standstill a few feet away. "Are you busy?" She recognised this footage. It was old. As in five years old. She wondered why he was looking at it again.

"Nope." Cal froze the image.

"Did you miss something?" She indicated the wall.

Cal looked up at the frozen scene, a crowd at a boxing match. The focus of the lens was on the crowd, not the boxers. He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. Then he fixed her with a warm smile. "What's up darlin'?"

"Thanksgiving." She checked his reaction. The smile faded. "Matthew and Kate are having a dinner this year. Mom and Dad are going to be there."

Cal winced. "When is it?"

"You've forgotten when thanksgiving is?" Gillian teased, amused.

Cal gave her a slight grin. "No, smarty pants, I meant, when's the dinna? Midday or evenin'?"

"Probably midday." She suddenly realised why he would ask. "Is Emily coming home?"

"She was talkin' about it. Might stay with her Mum for a bit. We hadn't exactly worked out a plan."

It was only early October after all. Gillian made a spot decision. "She'd be more than welcome to come too."

"You sure about that?"

"Of course. She's family too now remember?"

"Oh yeah," Cal said as if he was surprised he hadn't realised before now.

"And we haven't done a big extended family holiday celebration," Gillian continued, liking the idea more and more.

"I'll call her. Find out what her plans are."

Gillian stepped closer to him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Ew, Mom and Dad are making out again," Eli said loudly as he came into Cal's office. "Is it safe to come in?" He covered his face with a folder and stood still.

Gillian gave a slightly embarrassed smile as she pulled away. "Yes it's safe." She felt Cal's eyes on her as she walked away and heard him tell Eli he was a pillock.


	10. Chapter 10

While Gillian would have liked to have had a midwife for the pregnancy, considering her age and the fact that she had gotten pregnant through IVF and that she had miscarried once before, reasoning gave out and she stuck with her OB/GYN. He was in his fifties now, nice, hair greying through his temples and around the back, kind brown eyes. He met the news that she was pregnant with surprise, but they had known each other for many years, so when she came in to see him, his congratulations were heartfelt.

They talked at first, had a catch up about life. Gillian knew his wife and children. He had been her doctor since she had moved to the district sixteen years ago. Cal sat next to her listening intently, probably reading the hell out of Doctor Johansson. Occasionally the doctor would glance over at Cal and give a little nod of acknowledgement.

"So shall we first of all confirm the pregnancy?" Doctor Johansson asked.

"Sure," Gillian gave a nod and a smile. She was nervous. She could feel her palms sweating. It had been a month since the blood test had indicated she was pregnant. Only a sonogram would actually confirm it. She felt pregnant though; she noticed differences in her body already. They moved to the exam table. Gillian felt more apprehensive while everything was set up. Cal, probably reading her face too, took her hand just as she felt she might reach out for his. He gave her a forced smile, his blue eyes guarded. She wondered if that meant he was nervous too, or if he had a bad feeling.

The gel was cold and the pressure of the wand a little uncomfortable, but the smile on the doctor's face was totally worth it. "Definitely pregnant," he said.

Gillian broke into a grin and turned to Cal, her grip tightening on his hand. He was grinning right on back. Johansson turned the screen for them to see and pointed out the blip that would grow into their baby. Gillian felt her heart flutter. This was really happening!

Normally, they'd get a print out, but Johansson said they should wait for the next one. There was hardly anything to see at the moment. It was just a confirmation scan. The next one would be far more accurate. And because of her age, Gillian would be getting plenty of frequent scans and check-ups.

Doctor Johansson took her blood pressure and did an internal exam to make sure her cervix had closed. He took a urine sample, all stuff that would become routine as the months went by. For Gillian, it had been a while, even if she had made it through this initial stage before, and she asked questions about what he was doing, what was going to happen next and what to expect. Doctor Johansson asked Cal if he had any questions. "I've done all this before," Cal noted.

"Well, I'll see you next month," Johansson added by way of farewell. "Doctor," he shook her hand.

"Doctor," Gillian repeated with a smile, following an old joke.

"Docta," Cal jumped in as it was his turn to shake hands.

They walked out to the car hand in hand. Inside, Gillian turned to Cal. "You're very quiet." A return of the old Cal. Maybe it really was too good to be true.

"Just thinkin'," Cal responded, his hand poised over the key in the ignition. "Hopin' everythin' is all right."

"Me too."

"Hopin' this one sticks, if you'll excuse the pun."

There were times when Gillian thought she should be mad at Cal. This was one of them. It was a bad pun. He could be more sensitive. But she knew he was harmless. "Me too," she echoed and sat back in her seat. She hoped this one stuck too. Excuse the pun.

**PJ**

"It's funny watching her with a kid," Emily noted, leaning in to her father.

"Hm," Cal followed her gaze. Gillian had her nephew in her lap. The three year old didn't particularly want to sit still but Gillian was adept at keeping him entertained enough to forget he wanted to climb down and head for the kitchen. Gillian went gooey eyed as soon as she got through the front door.

"You know, cos she wants kids so badly."

Cal didn't respond.

"She looks so natural."

"Yeah," Cal agreed, purposefully distant so none of his excitement would show through. He was bursting to tell his daughter that Gillian was pregnant. He was dying to tell everybody. She was knocked up! They were having a baby! God damn, but he was happy. He wanted everyone to know that. But they were waiting for that magical safety mark of the second trimester. It was just one month away. Just in time for Christmas. Well, close enough. She looked great with a baby in her arms, so natural and relaxed and happy.

"So you know, you never told me how the..." Emily trailed off, checked to see if anyone was paying any attention to them. "IVF," she whispered.

Cal kept his eyes on Gillian, searching her face, taking small sips of delight at the genuine happiness flittering occasionally across her features; concern when her forehead creased slightly in worry. She was nauseous. But no one knew that and she was doing a fair job of hiding it, except Cal knew her face so well he could see her discomfort a mile off. "I'll let you know when somethin' happens," he responded to his daughter diplomatically neutral, his mask up in full force.

"Oh ok," Emily agreed.

Cal turned his scrutiny to the face next to him. "So how's school?"

"Good. Hard."

"It's supposed to be," Cal noted bluntly. "Goin' to classes?"

"Of course," Emily responded with an amused expression.

"Got yourself a job?" Cal was reading her.

"Not this semester, but I'm looking."

"Good girl."

"You're not reading me are you?" Emily was suddenly appalled.

"Of course not darlin'," Cal lied. "Total trust in you. You're an adult now."

"Yeah, Dad, I'm an adult. Trust me to make good decisions."

Cal thought about bringing up the phone call from Zoe from a few months ago. He wondered if Emily was still dating that boy. They might be guests in Gillian's brother's home, but he was pretty sure Emily would still yell at him and storm out if he pushed it that far. But she had lied about going to classes. She had shrugged a shoulder. So maybe Zoe was right, she was cutting a few. And Zoe was also right about something else too. Cal had cut a lot of classes when he was at Oxford. Didn't mean he wanted his daughter to do the same.

"I'm going to see if I can help," Emily walked away; probably so she could escape him. Cal suppressed a sigh as he watched her leave the room. Distance was straining their relationship all over again.

"You look very serious."

Cal shifted his gaze to Gillian. She held the toddler Max in front of her body. He looked up at Cal and smiled and waved. "Hi!"

Cal grinned back. "All right young man?" He held out his arms and Gillian relinquished the little body. "How you doin'?" Max tried to push against Cal so he would be put down but Cal merely tucked him under one arm, essentially immobilising him. Cal turned to Gillian who had shifted to stand next to him, her body angled in his direction. "How you doin'?"

"I'm good," Gillian gave him an easy smile. Cal loved that she was back to easy smiles.

"You gonna manage your lunch?"

"I hope so," Gillian's forehead creased into the frown she had been showing just before.

"We should have told everyone you were sick, not soba drive-a; then we could have just told one lie."

"The simpler the lie the easier it is to remember right?" Gillian gave him a slightly snide tone. She had been on the receiving end of so many of his simple lies in the past. Why the hell she had felt the need to bring that up now she didn't know. Cal looked contrite for just a second. "Sorry. Chalk that one down to not being able to drink coffee anymore." Because the taste of it made her want to throw it up again. Not that she should drink a lot of coffee while she was pregnant anyway; not a smart move. She missed the caffeine; now her mornings were cranky.

"So you and Emily?" Gillian swiftly changed the subject. "Going to tell me what's going on?"

Cal thought about ignoring her, changing the subject, or walking away. But he had turned over a new leaf. No one around them was listening to them. Kate was in the kitchen with her mother in law. Matthew was on the couch with his father. Music was playing in the background. Gillian's nieces were playing a very noisy game of snap on the floor in front of the couch. "I dunno what it is really," Cal responded glancing over at his wife. She was watching him intently. Max cried out to be let down and gave an accompanying violent wiggle. "In depth discussion about it late-a?"

"Sure," another easy smile that warmed Cal's heart. Gillian leaned in under the pretence of adjusting Max's t-shirt. "You look good with a baby in your arms."

"I was thinkin' that about you."

She gave him a smile.

"Here," Cal indicated he was going to give the toddler back. "I'm gonna go charm your mutha."

Gillian gave a light laugh, her blue eyes sparkling.

**PJ**

Dinner was wonderful. Gillian was glad Emily had come. She was a smart and witty conversationalist and certainly a welcome figure at the dinner table. She was good with the younger children and polite with the much older adults. She was helpful in the kitchen, helped to clear the table and did dishes. Cal complained that she was giving him a bad name but Gillian was also very impressed with Cal's behaviour. He also made smart and witty conversation at the table, was good with the younger children and polite with the much older adults. He certainly had charmed Gillian's mother, because she commented on what a wonderful man he was and how sweet his daughter was. Gillian saw Cal puff out in pride across the table, his 'pleased with himself' grin on his face. She was sure she was going to hear about it later.

Gillian was grateful for having good people around her, people she was thankful she was able to call her family. Matthew was thankful for a good meal. Kate thankful for their family. Gillian's parents something similar. Emily was thankful for being included. Cal, although Gillian knew he struggled with the American holiday tradition, managed being thankful for being part of their family. God damn when he tried, he really tried. When Gillian had looked up earlier that evening, and seen him with his mask up, she had felt panicked. Then she realised she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the new, happy, open Cal to go back from whence he came. Again she wanted to ask, again she told herself to wait. He would tell her if he wanted to. She didn't have to know everything.

When they were settled in bed she kissed him briefly. "Thank you for today."

"Well behaved was I?" Cal asked in a voice that was far too innocent.

"Yes. Very well behaved. And I appreciate that more than you know."

"I know all about it luv." He shifted so his arm was over her waist. He was mindful of Emily down the hall. Not a lot of fooling around while she was home. It was just for a few days. "You know what I'm thankful for?" Cal murmured into Gillian's hair, savouring the smell and the closeness and just about everything else about being able to lie in bed next to her.

"What's that?" Gillian responded just as softly.

"You. I'm thankful for you. You changed my life."

"Thank you Cal."

"No, darlin', thank you."

"I love you."

"I love you too."


	11. Chapter 11

What Gillian had discovered from the last road trip they went on was that Cal was a very good singer. And he knew all the words to every song. How he had managed to keep his singing voice under wraps for nine years was another mystery Gillian was yet to unravel. Along with how he had managed his doctorate when he got himself in to all kinds of mischief and cut so much school; what had happened with Jack Radar, one of his first protégées; and what had happened that had made Cal shake off his cloak of darkness. Too bad he wasn't so forth coming on answers to any of the above questions.

Their last trip had been to Cal's home town somewhere in the county of Kent, a few hours' drive from London. Well, his sort of home town; the place he had spent the first handful of years of his life before moving to London proper. Technically they weren't on a road trip at the moment. They were just taking a rental car from Logan International Airport into Boston city. They were officially closed over the Christmas/New Year period. Cal had invited himself to his daughter's new home for New Year celebrations. Gillian had countered that they would be cramping the young woman's style. Of course, when Cal mentioned it on the phone to Emily he had a way of manipulating the conversation so it had seemed like her suggestion; and she had been incredibly excited about the idea too. He didn't manage to get up there to see her too often.

Boston, one of America's oldest cities, had the blend of old world against modern. Aged brick buildings sat amongst modern steel and glass skyscrapers. They passed through neighbourhoods that reminded Gillian of New York, but the feel of the river was like DC. She had never been so far north. It was cold outside but at least the wind didn't scream in from the bay icy cold. There was snow everywhere and Cal drove cautiously. Harvard University was located across Charles River in Cambridge. Cal was listening to Navman instructions to get there, while also singing under his breath. Gillian was thinking about what they had come to the city to do. She felt a flutter or nerves.

All she thought about these days was the baby. She was in her fourth month, fifteen weeks to be exact. She saw Doctor Johansson every two weeks, a little excessive, but she could reason it was only to make sure she and the baby were ok. Her blood pressure was fine, her blood tests clear. The preliminary genetic tests had come back negative. Her urine tests were clear of anomalies. Her morning sickness had faded away. Now that she had passed into the second trimester she had relaxed a lot. Cal hadn't. Not just yet.

Cal led the way across campus. Gillian wondered if he knew where he was going by instinct or if he had a map. He seemed to know where he was going. But then he always seemed to know where he was going.

"Are you going to call Emily and warn her that we're here?"

"And ruin the surprise?" Cal asked with a grin. He suddenly stopped walking without warning in front of a door on the left and Gillian, not expecting it, took a few more steps beyond him. She had to double back and by the time she had done that Cal had knocked loudly. Then he stood, rocking on to his toes, looking pleased with himself. She wondered again if he had just been following his instincts.

A dishevelled young man answered. His dark hair stuck out at all kinds of angles, he was unshaven. He had no shirt on and his jeans were riding low enough for Gillian to see his underwear and almost to where his snail trail ended. He had a piercing in one nipple and a tattoo of The Sacred Heart of Jesus in the centre of his chest. Gillian looked away.  
"Who are you?" Cal asked rudely. Gillian could see his demeanour change next to her. He straightened up to his five foot seven height and leaned in, in an aggressive way. She remembered Emily was supposed to be staying in an all girls dorm.

"Who are you old man?"

'_Big mistake_,' Gillian thought.

Cal narrowed his eyes. "What's your name then?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Are you meant to be in here?"

Even Gillian could see the young man's response. He looked suddenly slightly nervous, while trying to hide it behind arrogance. He shifted his weight to his other foot.

"Maybe the dean would fancy a call. I take it you're Ajay?" Cal didn't need a verbal response. Neither did Gillian. "One of his TA's in the dorm room of a female student? Half bloody naked."

"Dad!" Emily approached rapidly. She was pulling her hair back into a pony tail. "What are you doing here?"

"This is your old man?" Ajay turned to the wide eyed Emily.

"Told you we were comin' to visit."

"You didn't tell me he was British," Ajay continued.

"Yeah but I thought you meant on the weekend," Emily ignored him and focussed on her farther.

"It is the weekend," Cal pointed out.

"It's Friday," Emily corrected.

"This your boyfriend then?" Cal jerked a thumb in his direction.

"Ajay's not really my boyfriend," Emily introduced.

Ajay looked more nervous. Cal offered his hand, the aggression flooding out of him and into the floor. "All right?" He asked politely. Ajay shook it.

"Hi Emily," Gillian spoke up with a smile.

"Hi Gillian," Emily returned.

Gillian turned her head to look at Cal. He was staring Ajay down. Not in an aggressive way though; he was studying him. Ajay looked uncomfortable.

"So you two sleepin' togetha?" Cal asked.

"Cal," Gillian gave him a nudge in the arm. But she had seen Ajay blanch in embarrassment. Emily turned red. "Why don't we go wait outside? And then when Emily's ready she can join us for coffee?"

Cal's blue eyes roved over Ajay's face. He started turning away and broke eye contact right at the last minute. He gave Gillian a smile. "All right luv." He turned to Emily, eyebrows raised in question.

"Yeah, I'll just be a minute."

Gillian took Cal's elbow and led him back down the red brick hallway and around a grey hooded figure, slouching like a zombie toward the staircase. They stepped outside into the cool winter air. "You should have called her," Gillian admonished lightly.

"And miss out on meetin' the guy sleepin' with my daughta?" Cal responded with an even lighter tone than hers.

"I'm sure Emily would have introduced you eventually."

"It was more fun this way."

Gillian smacked his arm lightly. Cal gave her a grin. "You know he's harmless right?"

Cal's grin tightened slightly. "You see the tattoo?"

"Of course," Gillian responded. It was hard not to see it. The subject matter was also intensely interesting. She didn't know many young adults with blatant religious works of art on their skin.

"You know what they say about boys with tattoos?"

"No," Gillian played along. "What's that they say?"

"They're bad boys."

"Oh really?"

Cal nodded, his grin turning devilish. Gillian wondered where he was going with this conversation. Was he about to imply something about Gillian's choice in a man with tattoos, or his daughter, or make some dig at Ajay for having body art, which would also translate into a dig at Cal for having art too? At a stretch he could suggest his daughter was attracted to someone representing her father. Actually that might not be such a stretch. Had Gillian not married an addict? Just like her own father? Different drug, a drug all the same; an addiction that had destroyed a marriage.

"I can see your mind workin' ovatime," Cal said instead, his blue eyes watching her intently.

"I know what you're going to say," Gillian responded. "I'm just wondering if you're going to say it or make me guess."

Cal gave an amused kind of laugh.

"You know that the tattoo, the piercing, the hair, all of that is just a protection right?" Gillian decided to cut out his thought logic and go straight to hers.

"Is it now?" Cal asked amused.

Gillian nodded. "Him calling you an 'old man' was just a challenge, his way of asserting his youthfulness."

"He's twenty-four."

"Funnily enough, that still makes him a youth."

Cal gave a disgusted kind of smirk. "I saw an upstart kid tryin' to play at bein' a hard man."

"You're kind of right. He _was_ trying to play at being a man." Gillian paused and gave a slight sigh.

Cal's expression became more amused. "Say it."

"Say what?"

"You wanna give me a warnin'?"

Gillian thought about staying out of it, decided she couldn't sit by and watch a car wreck happen in front of her. "If it's not a complete waste of my breath, I would tell you to be careful around Emily when it comes to Ajay. She clearly likes him and they're clearly together. Play nicely when he's around. Otherwise you'll drive a bigger wedge between you than you've got now."

"That was Zoe's doin'," Cal tried to shift the heat. He had been doing so well.

"Yes, Zoe has a way of getting the wrong end of the stick."

"And sharpenin' it and shovin' it unda someone's finganails," Cal added.

Gillian tried hiding her smile. "It doesn't matter what her agenda is, or what she's already said or done. You're here now. You get a fresh start. He's harmless. Be nice."

"Oh god you said the 'n' word," Cal whined.

Gillian rolled her eyes. "I'll leave it at that then."

Cal stepped towards her. He kissed her briefly. "Always appreciate your advice darlin'. Kick me in the shins when it looks like I'm in dange-a of ova steppin' the mark."

"Wish you'd given me permission to do so ten years ago."

Cal laughed warmly. "You're gettin' funny-a as the years go by, you know that?"

"I like how you confuse humour with cynicism. That's very interesting."

The door behind them opened. Gillian was standing with her back to it but she didn't need to turn around to know Emily had come out. And by the look on Cal's face she had Ajay with her. The two approached.

"No offence," Cal started. "But you're out." He pointed a finger at Ajay and jerked his thumb away. Gillian and Emily gave him a glare. "We have some family stuff to get out of the way first," Cal softened his tone. "But we could have dinna togetha late-a instead?"

"You're probably safer disappearing for a while," Emily turned to the dark haired young man.

"Sure. Cool," he replied nonchalantly.

Gillian saw he was wearing a Linkin Park t-shirt. Not exactly hard core rock music. Over the top of that was an old army jacket, faded patches denoting where ranks had once adorned it. From the positioning and the number of missing stripes, it looked like it had previously belonged to a sergeant.

Emily gave him a brief kiss on the lips. "I'll text you later."

"Sure," he responded with a slight shrug.

"It was nice to meet you," Gillian offered. She got a smile in return and a nod and then Ajay walked away. "He seems nice," she told Emily.

"Thanks." Emily put her arms out for a hug. "It's good to see you."

Gillian rubbed her back. "You too."

"Do I get a hug too?" Cal interrupted.

"I'm not sure you deserve one," Emily gave him an unimpressed expression.

Cal raised his right hand like he was taking an oath. "Best behave-ya. I promise."

Emily reached out and put her arms around his shoulders. "You better be," she said as they pulled apart.

"Point the way to coffee. We have somethin' to tell you."

"Ok," Emily looked to Gillian who gave away nothing but a slight smile. It was good news, she was saying, don't worry. Emily led them across the courtyard to the dining hall. "The coffee's not great, but it's not bad. And at least it's warm in here." She took them across the room to two large silver urns. Cal asked for hot chocolate and was given sachets. He made Gillian's drink and then his own. They settled at a large trestle table near the back of the open space, under the windows, where a wasted winter sun was daring to throw a few rays through.

The agreement had been: they would tell no one until the second trimester. They would not talk about the IVF to anyone; nothing about whether it had failed, if it had worked, if they were even still attempting it. Only a handful of people knew they had been attempting it in the first place. Cal wanted Emily to be the first to know about the successful pregnancy. Gillian found that an easy compromise to make. Why he had insisted on doing it before the New Year, she wasn't sure. But it was nice being in Boston with Emily and it was even nicer that her father had agreed to an actual holiday.

"So what's this news?" Emily prompted once they were settled and sugar had been stirred and milk poured.

Cal sipped his drink. "Gillian's pregnant," he said unceremoniously. It even took Gillian by surprise. Emily's eyes widened in shock and they slid over to Gillian for confirmation. She gave a slight nod of her head and a wide smile that she couldn't control.

"Are you kidding me!?" Emily exclaimed. "That's great news! Congratulations!" This, she directed at Gillian.

"Thanks," Gillian responded softly. She felt gooey inside. She had waited years and years and years to hear those words directed at her. She felt Cal's foot on the back of her calf. His eyes were smiling.

Emily, who was sitting next to Cal, put her arm around his shoulder and kissed the side of his head. "After all these years you're finally giving me a little brother or sister huh?"

Cal's lip turned up in amusement. "Thought I'd wait until you were a trust worthy age for babysittin'."

"When did this happen?" Emily turned her attention back to Gillian. "When are you due?"

"I'm fifteen weeks. So my due date is in June. We're still waiting for it to be confirmed."

Emily asked more questions and Gillian fielded them. She pulled back her coat to show Emily her tiny little baby bump. It was hardly noticeable at all and easily hidden under loose clothes. Cal called it her 'Battle of the Bulge'. Gillian immediately associated it negatively with gaining weight but he had meant the World War Two battle in Europe; the great 'push out'. Which was his way of saying her uterus was starting to push out. Gillian told him if he used any more rhyming slang along those lines she was going to drop kick him. He had laughed. But he hadn't said a word about it again.

Dinner was nice. Ajay was clearly nervous. But Cal, true to his word, was being polite. Polite enough anyway. He was still being Lightman, as Eli would have put it. At least Gillian didn't have to kick him under the table. And when they had said their goodnights and were back at their hotel, she told him so. Praise, after all, positively encouraged the right kind of behaviours.

"I'm impressed with the way you handled Ajay today." Gillian removed her coat and draped it over the back of a chair.

"You're impressed by that?" Cal asked in mock disbelief. He approached where she stood, placing a hand on her waist, the other over her stomach. "Wait until I impress the hell out of you with my nappy changin' skills."

Gillian laughed. "I'm definitely looking forward to that."

Cal pulled her closer. "Me too," he tried kissing her neck.

"I'm serious about Ajay. You could have gone all Lightman on him."

"You sound like Loke-a," Cal complained and stepped away again. "A definite turn off by the way."

Gillian plopped down on the bed. "Thank you for listening to me."

"Thank you for giving me advice that I could follow."

Gillian laughed lightly. "Oh is that how I get through to you? Simple instructions?"


	12. Chapter 12

"How badly do you need to pee right now?" Cal asked facetiously, leaning down so his head was close to where hers rested on the bed.

Gillian barely moved her head to shoot him a distasteful glare.

"Should I talk about wartafalls or drippin' taps?"

"Only if you want me to break both your legs and then make you walk home," Gillian answered evenly.

Cal broke into a grin. "Nervous are we?"

She gave a vigorous nod and Cal dropped his teasing. He gave her hand a squeeze. "It'll be all right luv."

"You don't know that for sure."

"All the otha tests have been completely normal," Cal pointed out. "Your blood pressure is great."

"Not that you help with that," Gillian cut in with a grumble.

"Genetic tests, blood tests, pee in a cup tests. You're healthy, the baby is healthy," Cal insisted. He felt pretty confident about saying it too. They would have found out by now if something was not right. Unless they were about to discover the baby had an extra foot that shouldn't be there. "Unless of course," Cal mused more to himself. "There really is an extra foot in there." He glanced down at the baby bump, getting more pronounced as the weeks went by. Gillian was in maternity wear now. She looked damn good in it; cute dresses and shirts and jeans; classy, just like she was.

"What do you mean?" Gillian asked alarmed.

"You know. Two of em. Doc Williams said it was a possibility."

Gillian's alarm went blank for a second and then a glimmer of a new panic arrived. "You think there are two?"

"I have no idea. You'd be betta equipped to ansa that one."

"I..." Gillian broke eye contact, looking away to think. "I have no idea," she finished. At eighteen weeks, she had only just started to feel the baby moving around. Or babies.

Doctor Johansson suddenly entered the room. "So sorry to keep you waiting," he apologised immediately. "I was held up."

'_Obviously_,' Cal thought. He didn't see a hint of a deception on the doctor's face; so at least he wasn't hiding away with a cup of coffee for an extra five minutes, or taking a personal phone call.

"How are you feeling?" He asked Gillian politely.

"Nervous," she admitted.

Doctor Johansson gave her a kindly smile. "That's to be expected. But this is a completely routine scan. We have no reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary."

Gillian looked over at Cal and he could see his 'twin' comment was now on her mind. They hadn't entertained the idea of twins. Probably because they had been so damn grateful for just one pregnancy. But with IVF, it was certainly a possibility. There had been several pre-embryo's returned to Gillian's uterus. Who's to say they hadn't _all_ taken?

"Ok, well, let's take a look," Doctor Johansson had finished setting up the scanning equipment. For the eighteen week scan the doctor was using an internal device and Gillian tensed up a little when it was inserted. When Zoe had been pregnant with Emily, they were just coming in to use and were usually saved for difficult pregnancies, researching anomalies or if the mother had a history of miscarriage. Now, Cal had come to learn, every expecting mother got at least one of these kinds of scans, usually at the five month mark. "I can confirm there is only one foetus."

"Oh thank god," Cal blurted. The doctor and Gillian looked at him as if he had said something in another language. He pretended he hadn't said anything at all. Twins would have been kind of sweet, but also a bloody nightmare.

The image on the screen was amazingly clear. The doctor could even adjust the screen to show the thermal imaging of the baby's heart pulsing blood through its arteries. They watched the doctor take measurements and then showed them how the baby was expelling clouds of amniotic fluid as it practiced breathing. It did somersaults and waved. Cal felt a surge of emotion in his chest. When he looked over at Gillian she had tears in her eyes. He gave her hand a double squeeze, the silent signal that asked if she was all right. She turned to him and gave him a watery smile. Cal kissed the back of her hand.

"So," Doctor Johansson finished writing in his notes. He looked at both of them. "Want to know the sex of the baby?"

**PJ**

"Come back to bed," Gillian mumbled in her sleep, shooting out an arm that missed Cal by a long shot.

"Toilet," he responded stumbling across the room in the grey light of an early morning. The white tiles on the bathroom floor were cold. The bathroom window was open from showers last night. Cal closed it before using the loo. He washed his hands, face and teeth and then went back to the bedroom. Gillian had turned over so her back was to the door. Her naked back. Cal took a second to drink it in, while letting the memories of the night before make his face smile. He climbed back under the covers. Gillian didn't stir. So Cal scooted across the mattress, throwing up the blanket so he could press right up against her. She woke with a start.

"Cold!" She complained as Cal put his arms around her. He stuck his cold feet against hers. She squirmed hard. "Cal!"

Cal laughed. "It's terrible isn't it?"

"Stop it!" She tried shifting away from him.

"Warm me up," he murmured in her ear, nuzzling his mouth against her skin. Gillian tried shunting his feet away with hers and turning over in his arms. Cal used his body weight to stop her. "Mmm, I love it when we role play," Cal told her in a low voice, completely unperturbed by the way she fought back. "Make me work for it."

"Stop it," Gillian told him again, this time far less forcefully. Cal found his way to more of her neck, kissed her skin, teased it with his tongue. Gillian giggled and stopped resisting. Her hands found their way to his arms, holding him tightly. She turned her head back and Cal crushed his lips against hers, blatantly feeling around her mouth with his tongue. He heard Gillian gasping in air through her nose and he smiled; he won for catching her off guard. He kissed her until he was out of air and then drew away, moving so he was lying flat on his back with his legs strewn wide. He slid his arms under their respective pillows so he formed a big X right in the middle of their bed.

Gillian turned over to her front and leaned against him. "That's it? You're going to wake me up like that and then just leave it?"

Cal gave her a smirk. He was about to suggest she come on over and finish it when his hand brushed against something under her pillow. He felt around for it and pulled the soft object out for viewing. "What's this?" He held it up in front of his face. It was a little yellow teddy bear, about the size of his hand.

"Emily sent it to me."

Cal turned it the right way up. "What for?"

"For her little brother or sister." Gillian took it out of his hand. She pressed it up to her face so it covered one half and peered at Cal with her right eye. "I think it's adorable." She gave him an innocent expression.

Cal watched her impassively. "You slept with it unda your pillow?"

"Yes," Gillian admitted even though there was the slightest hint of embarrassment. Cal knew she knew he would have seen it and he was mildly surprised that she didn't try to hide it. She didn't care that he saw she was embarrassed. That was interesting. "I just thought it was nice."

Cal surged forward, knocking her gently back on the bed again. He kissed her deeply. "I think _you're_ bloody adorable."

"Adorable?" Gillian asked when he let her catch her breath.

"Nice?" Cal tried. "Sweet?" He held his weight off her baby bump and watched her face. Her cheeks were flushed. He had bought Emily a teddy bear very similar to the one she had sent just after she was born. "Beautiful?" Close. "Sexy." Bingo.

Gillian gave him a smile. "I like that."

"I can see that you do," Cal kissed her again, feeling her enthusiasm in the heat of her mouth.

"Tell me again," Gillian requested breathlessly.

"You're sexy," Cal responded feeling her hands start to caress down his waist. He grinned at her. "So very sexy," he murmured against her neck.

"Are you going to make love to me now or are you just going to tease me all morning?"

"Tease you. I do love it when you beg."

Gillian huffed. Cal silenced her with another kiss. Lots of kissing. He liked it. She _loved_ it.

"I love that you try so hard not to, bite the inside of your cheek and everythin'." He kissed her again until she moaned. "And I love it more when you give in."


	13. Chapter 13

Cal lay very still. He was sure Gillian was finally drifting off to sleep. Her breathing was so shallow it was hard to detect. He had promised to lie with her for a while and then every time he tried to leave she held on to his hand and asked if he would stay a little longer. She had a way of asking that was very hard to say no to. Cal supposed it was the tone of voice, the meek sleepy begging. Worked every damn time. He waited for another five minutes to make sure she was under enough that she wouldn't notice him getting up again. And in that time he did what he always did: studied her face. Even with her muscles relaxed he could see the crinkle of lines around her eyes. The freckles were less pronounced because of the winter months, but if he looked close enough, he could see them dusted across her chest and upper arms too.

Cal's eyes trailed down her body, over her enlarged breasts, to her abdomen and the swell of the baby safe and secure while it grew and grew. Sometimes, they would lie together at the end of the day, with just a dim light on, and talk, or just be peaceful. Cal could see the flickers of wonderment on his wife's face as she felt the baby move inside her. Despite resting his hands on her belly he couldn't feel the baby yet. He was looking forward to when its kicks were pronounced enough for him to experience too. Emily had been a surprise and had taken some getting used to. This time, Cal wanted this baby intensely, and it brought the fatherly feeling of protectiveness and love out of him much sooner. He was already looking forward to being able to hold it for the first time, of being able to connect with the little soul in his own way.

Gillian gave a sudden deep breath. Cal waited five seconds and then sat up, eyes glued to her face, checking for signs that his movement had disturbed her. He could cover it by simply lying down again on his side. Gillian didn't seem to register the jostle of the bed. Cal shifted further and got up off the mattress. He checked again. No reaction. He was clear. He strode quickly from the room, pulling the door gently closed behind him and headed to the dining room table. He had wasted more than half an hour of that afternoon waiting for her to take a nap. He'd spent fifteen minutes before that trying to cajole her into having a sleep in the first place.

The crazy pregnancy symptoms had started. She was cranky, brought on by fatigue and carrying around another person. But she had also started nesting because she constantly bitched at him for having research papers out on the table. Or if he forgot to rinse his mug after morning coffee. It was probably compounded by the fact that she had gone cold turkey from caffeine for six months now. Not that Cal 'forgot' to rinse the mug. He was just rebelling for the sake of it. Especially because she kept packing up his research and putting it away in the tiny little cupboard of a room she had designated his 'office'. The first time he hadn't been so perturbed. He had just gone back to get it. But then he had found it in all kinds of a state and it had taken him ages to get back his system. And as soon as he had turned his back, she had packed it all away again. That had been their first fight.

The second fight was over what colour to paint the nursery. Cal wasn't bothered. Gillian wanted him to be. Which had led into a sub fight about going to birthing classes. Cal resisted. Gillian insisted. Cal didn't see the point in doing something just for the sake of doing it. He had done it before and it all seemed a bit silly getting down on the floor pretending to be in labour. Gillian had been so flustered with his response she had turned red and stormed from the room.

The third fight had had something to do with the Lightman Groups finances. Again. Gillian wanted him to meet with her and the accountant. Cal refused. He had always refused; it was a policy of his. Gillian insisted like she never had before. They bickered and then she had started crying and that had pissed Cal off because he was not a fan of water works being thrown into an argument. It should be debated on its merits. Especially when it came to Gillian. She never cried when they were arguing. She always just tried to prove her point in the most persuasive way she knew; drawing on a mental capacity that Cal had always respected. So Cal had definitely instigated their last fight. He was trying to be tolerant and patient, maybe not very hard, but she was smothering him in a whole new way. And it was getting under his skin in a whole new way.

Cal sat with his back to the window. He didn't see what the big deal was. They never used the dining room anyway. They often ate at the breakfast bar or the kitchen table. The dining room was for formal events, like Christmas. Cal hit the power button on his laptop. This room had much better natural lighting and much more space for him to spread out all his work across the table so he could find it. Plus, it was closer to the kitchen and was in the middle of the house, instead of tucked away in a back corner, so he could keep tabs on what was going on around him. Cal entered his password and logged in. The desktop background was an image from the last scan of their baby.

And then his phone started ringing. Cal stood and dug it out of his pocket. Emily.

"Hiya," Cal greeted.

"Hey Dad."

They exchanged pleasantries.

"What's up?" Cal asked next.

"Why does something have to be up for me to call you?"

"Cos you don't call me unless somethin' is up. I always call you."

"Oh, that's not true," Emily tried to counter.

"When was the last time you called me just to check in with your dear old dad?"

There was silence while Emily thought. "All right fine. I'm in trouble."

"With what?" Cal felt immediately alarmed. "Are you pregnant?"

"Dad!" Emily huffed. "Why is it your first reaction comes down to sex?"

"Because you're my daughta, and it's every fatha's worst nightmare that their kids will have kids before they're ready. Especially their daughta's."

"Is that before their kids are ready or before they're ready?"

"Before I'm ready," Cal clarified.

"You're having another kid," Emily pointed out.

"And think how funny that would look if I had a grandchild and a child the same age?"

"That's your own fault," Emily teased.

"I'm not ready to be a grand-dad," Cal whined.

"Do you want me to tell you what I'm in trouble about or not?"

"Oh right, that. Go ahead."

Emily gave a dramatic sigh that made Cal smile. She had just turned twenty-one, now legal to drink, but she was still his little girl. He could still wind her up spectacularly. And she didn't have hormones driving her insane so he was quite safe with a bit of light teasing.

"It's school. I think I'm going to flunk a paper."

"Which pape-a?"

"Business studies."

"How are you flunkin' that?" Cal asked surprised.

"Doesn't matter," Emily sounded cagey.

"Em," Cal started, his tone low with authority.

"Dad! Save the lecture. I don't want to hear it."

"Does it have anythin' to do with Ajay?"

If she had been face to face Cal would have been able to see her answer. That was probably why he had blurted it out. Old habit.

"I'm so not answering that," Emily's tone was dangerous.

Cal suppressed a sigh. He took a second to calm himself down. The last thing he wanted to do was to pick a fight with the other most important woman in his life. Bickering with one was bad enough. "All right. I'm listenin'. Business studies. Not really my forte luv. You should try your mutha. She's technically a business owna now too."

"Having a law firm with just one person in it is not really running a business. I need insight into something more complex."

"Well if you wanna pick someone's brain propa you should really talk to Gill."

"You think she'd be up for that?"

Cal suddenly wondered, based on the tone of Emily's voice, if that was who she had intended to talk to all along. "Why not just ask straight out if that was who you wanted to talk to?"

There was a moment's silence. "Because I knew you'd be upset if I didn't talk to you first."

"I don't know whetha to be offended or amused."

"I vote for amused," Emily had her best little girl voice on.

Cal sighed audibly this time. "So sad, my own daughta rings to talk to my wife. How did that happen?" He allowed a micro-pause. "I'd love to pass you on but she's havin' a nap."

"Ok I'll try her later."

"Hey Em," Cal stopped her before she could hang up. "You're not really cuttin' classes are you?'

"Who told you I was?"

So it was true.

"Your mutha seems to think you don't go to class."

"She told you that!" She sounded incredulous. "When did you two even talk?" She accused.

"We talk," Cal was firm. Just turned twenty-one; still acting like a teenager. "Occasionally."

"Well not that occasionally. You didn't tell her you were having another baby."

Oops.

"She was obviously going to find out. You could have called her," Emily reprimanded.

"Why is everyone in such a grump these days?" Cal asked the ceiling. "I didn't know what the exact protocol on the situation was all right? It's not like we socialise regularly." Not that he had to answer to her. "I neva said I was perfect."

"But you sure act like it," Emily finished snidely.

"All right enough!" Cal's tone hardened. "Are you goin to class or not?"

"I'm an adult now Dad, I'm not sure I have to justify myself to you."

"You do when I'm payin' your tuition. Should we just call it quits now? I can call the school and your mutha, cancel the payments now."

There was a very long pause. "I've cut a few. Just like everyone else does," Emily was slightly defensive. "But I'm not behind. I'm just finding it harder than I thought it would be. I'm not perfect either."

"All right," Cal sighed and calmed down again. '_Not supposed to be pickin' a fight rememba_?' He should do that with Gillian too. Stop picking fights. He wasn't helping the situation. "I'll get Gill to call you when she wakes up and you can talk to her about your pape-a. I'm glad you felt you could call with your problems luv." Reinforce the good behaviour with positive affirmations, that's what Gillian would tell him to do. He didn't have to always manipulate with negative connotations.

"Thanks for your help Dad," Emily's tone was a lot lighter. "I don't mean to be defensive. I just get these calls from Mom asking me what I'm doing every minute of the day. It gets a bit much."

Cal chuckled. "She just worries about you. Doesn't know how else to express that."

"Less harassment would be nice."

Cal vowed silently to not harass her. He wished her a good weekend. Told her he loved her.

"Love you too Dad."

Cal hung up the phone. He turned back to his laptop. The screen saver had come on. He wiped a finger over the mouse pad and the screen dissolved back to the log in prompt. He re-typed his password and waited for everything to load. He pulled up the page he had been working on, read through the last two paragraphs to try and find his train of thought. He consulted the notes on the table next to him and poised his fingers over the home keys. He typed two words before he was interrupted again.

"Hey," Gillian scuffed across the room sleepily, picking something out of her eye. Her hair was pillow mussed and her cheeks slightly pink. She had on jeans and one of Cal's t-shirts. It was stretched tightly over the baby but he didn't care. She looked sexy, Cal couldn't help but think so.

"Sleep all right?"

"Uh huh," she rounded the table and approached where he sat. Cal had to crane his neck up as she got closer. She wrapped her arms around his head and kissed his hair. "I'm sorry for being cranky."

Third sigh of the hour. Second suppressed one. He wasn't going to get any work done today at all.

"I hate that we fight."

Cal put his arm around the small of her back. His other hand, he placed on her warm stomach. He had to play this delicately. Couldn't blame her, shouldn't agree with her, wasn't going to back down, had to seem to remain neutral. "We're just tired," he supplied. Because she got up in the night several times to go to the bathroom and every time she got out of bed Cal instinctively woke. He worried about where she was going.

Gillian curled over slightly so her breasts were nearly pressed into his face. "Forgive me for acting like a hormone crazed woman?"

"Nothin' to forgive," Cal countered.

Gillian hugged him again. "I don't mean to smother you but I just like having you near me," her voice was thin, emotional. "I feel better when you're around."

Cal tilted his head back to look her in the eye. He gave her a smile. "I like that too." Because heaven forbid the day when she decided she didn't actually like having him around so much and kicked him out on his ass. There had been a time when he would have done anything to make her happy. What had changed? Hormones had simply heightened her emotions. Surely he could just suck it up and make her happy? At the end of the day he wasn't going to have to squeeze another person out of his body.

Gillian's smile was weak when she gave it. Cal patted his leg. "Sit with me a while. Then Emily would like to pick your brain for school."

"What about?" Curious.

Cal explained about Emily's troubles with her paper. "Sure," Gillian agreed readily as she shifted and perched on his thigh.

"Ooofffhh," Cal groaned. "You weigh a ton."

Gillian jammed an elbow into his sternum. "What are you working on?"


	14. Chapter 14

"Did you sign the papers?"

Oops.

"Nope," Cal picked up the folder on his desk. He started to read the document Gillian had given him.

"Are you just reading it now?" Her tone was full of accusation. Cal supposed he deserved that. "I gave it to you a week ago."

"I was busy."

"Do you do it to wind me up?"

Cal looked up at her, surprised by the sudden astuteness. Gillian took a seat opposite his desk, resting her hands on her belly. She looked beautiful and he felt a pang of guilt; he was meant to be turning over a new leaf. "I'll read it now."

"We're meeting with the lawyers in fifteen minutes."

He had also forgotten about that. Maybe on purpose. Meetings with the lawyers were always so dull. "You're betta at dealin' with this stuff than I am."

"And all I asked you to do was read the document, sign it and sit next to me in the meeting so it looked like we had at least discussed it."

Cal thought they had discussed it.

"This stuff is important Cal."

"I know," he sighed. "But it's also morbid."

"You had the same exact conversation with me about Emily several years ago."

"Guilty as charged. I wasn't listenin'."

Gillian looked hurt.

"I'm listenin' now."

Gillian looked despondent.

Cal got up and moved around his desk to sit next to her. He physically turned her chair so she was facing him. He looked her deep in her blue eyes. "I'm crap at this."

Gillian didn't react.

"I'm crap at listenin' to you and very crap at stuff that's to do with the runnin' of this place. But this was important because it was about our family and I let you down. I'm sorry luv."

Gillian watched him neutrally. She had initiated conversations about what would happen now that they were having a baby. A lot of contingency plans. Like if Cal died, his share of the business would be divided between Gillian, the baby and Emily. Or if Gillian died, her share would now be split between Cal and the baby. And if they both died, her brother and his wife had agreed to look after the baby. The business would go into trust. Gillian was willing to give Eli and Ria shares. That was what the meeting with the accountant had been about. She was being practical because that's what she did. Cal was resisting because that's what he did.

"When there's somthin' important you want me to do. Don't just give me a piece of pape-a and tell me to read it. Tell me what it is and why it's important. And then I'll know to make it a priority. Othawise whateva else I'm doin' is far more interestin'."

"Simple instructions right?"

Cal nodded. "Yes." He figured he could deal with that. "I am male afta all."

Gillian had the good grace to smile. She reached over and picked up the folder Cal had barely started looking at. She handed it to him and looked him in the eye. "Cal. This is a copy of our last will and testament. It's important. I need you to read it and sign it. We're meeting with the lawyers in ten minutes to go over it."

"Got it."

**PJ**

First wedding anniversaries were important but also tricky affairs. Unfortunately, they had both completely blown the first one. It had fallen in the middle of their first round of IVF and it had been emotional and largely forgotten. Gillian remembered, of course she did, but aside from having dinner out in a restaurant, that's about as far as the celebrations went. Which had been fine at the time but now... now that Cal had thought about it, now that Gillian was pregnant and last year's bleakness was behind them, it seemed the right time to actually mark the occasion properly. It felt like the start of their marriage anyway, with the baby on the way.

So Cal had to make it special, but not overly elaborate, otherwise Gillian would expect that for every occasion. He definitely wanted to make it special for her though. He wanted her to know how much he loved her and appreciated her. And it was doubly important this time around because she was now eight months pregnant with his baby, so it wasn't just about her being his wife anymore, it was about her being the mother of his child. She was huge and getting to the point where she couldn't rationalise being uncomfortable anymore. The weather was getting warmer as spring came in to full swing, and Gillian complained about being constantly too hot, with her internal warming system. The baby pressed on her bladder, making her want to pee very ten minutes; it pressed into her stomach, making her lunch back up to burn her throat. The baby made her retain water so her ankles had swollen severely; her pelvis was shifting wider to make room for the birth which caused her back to constantly ache. She was getting miserable and irritable.

Cal wasn't one for Hallmark cards. They were definitely not his preferred choice in expressing how he felt. He was a man of actions. Actions were much louder than words. He was an action man, Gillian was a verbal woman. So there had to be mix in there somewhere; a compromise that would soothe both of their needs. First things first though, Cal lead Gillian out on to the deck, loaded her back up with cushions and left her on a lounger with a blanket, just in case, and a raspberry cordial and cranberry juice; her favourite drink at the moment. Then he swiftly made an entree sized salad to curb her after work hunger; mesculin lettuce, three cherry tomatoes so it wasn't too acidic, cucumber, avocado, pumpkin seeds, feta, olives, grated carrot, pine nuts, mung beans and a raspberry dressing. The dressing was a vinaigrette, so to counter the acidity of that, Cal whisked it into honey. The result was a creamy raspberry flavoured but sweet dressing. It was very thick, so Cal used it sparingly. He took the salad outside. He wanted Gillian out of the way so he could surprise her. Otherwise she would sit at the breakfast bar and eyeball everything he made. And to be fair, probably interfere.

The sun was sitting low in the background, bathing the back yard in its warmth but Gillian was shaded from its full wrath by the house. "Pre-dinna snack," Cal said by way of offer.

Gillian gave him a warm smile and sat up slightly higher. "This is good," she said around her first mouthful. "Thanks."

"Entirely welcome," Cal sat near her feet and pulled them into his lap. He started rubbing her left foot. He caught a flash of delight on her face. Too easy.

"You know, considering it is our wedding anniversary, I should really be doing something nice for you too."

Cal watched her impassively. "You're havin' my baby. I think that's pretty nice."

Gillian blushed. She pretended to study her salad intently. And then it seemed she had no response to his comment because she just looked back up at him wordlessly, a little Mona Lisa smile on her lips.

Cal switched feet and gave her a sudden grin. "Maybe we could think of sumthin' nice to do late-a."

Gillian blushed harder, so her ears turned red too. Cal's lewd grin turned into an amused smile. He loved to tease her and make her blush. But he wasn't sure he had seen her blush so intensely before.

"Is it too hot for you out here?" He asked innocently. "Or are you embarrassed?"

Gillian gave a short laugh. She swallowed her mouthful. "I'm embarrassed at your blatant attempts at trying to get me into bed." She paused. "And you also make me feel all hot inside."

Cal laughed and lowered her feet back to their cushion on the recliner as he got to his feet. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Well, you keep that thought in mind and I'll make dinna." This close, he could see the flecks of black around the iris of her blue eyes.

"How long am I going to have to keep that thought in mind?" Gillian called to his retreating back.

"Until afta dinna," Cal ducked inside. He peeled and quartered potatoes for mash. Then he put chicken breast in the oven. While he waited for both items to cook he made an avocado salsa out of the leftovers from Gillian's salad. He went out to retrieve her bowl and see if she needed anything else. She had her head resting back against a pillow and her eyes closed, so he didn't disturb her. Cal took her empty bowl and glass back inside. An alarm was going off to tell him to turn the chicken over.

Within fifteen minutes the chicken was ready and Cal was mashing potatoes. The neighbourhood was so quiet he could hear Gillian shift in her chair in between plunges with the masher. A few seconds later she appeared in the kitchen.

"Great timin' sweetheart. Dinna is ready."

Gillian moved to sit at the small worn kitchen table. "Nope," Cal stopped her. "We're sittin' at the big kids table tonight." He saw the amused curl of Gillian's lips before she slowly walked away. Cal followed her with warm plates a few minutes later. She was sitting at the head of the table. Cal had set places properly for once, a lit candle between them. Probably a bit hokey, but they had never done a candle light dinner before. Gillian complimented the food again.

"Have a good nap?"

"Uh huh," she nodded. "I noticed you cleaned up in here."

"Consida that your anniversary present then," Cal said facetiously.

Gillian smirked at his comment and Cal smiled. They both knew by the end of the week it would more than likely back to his organised mess. But at least Cal had made an effort. And at least Gillian wasn't niggling at him about it.

"Thanks," Gillian added quietly.

When dinner was finished Cal cleared their plates. Gillian dismantled the place settings and helped him do dishes, even though he told her to go and sit and relax. He drew her a bath and then had to coax her into it.

"It's too hot for a hot bath," she said even though she eyed the bubbles with interest.

"Hume-a me," Cal tried.

Gillian turned on him suspiciously. "What did you do?"

"It's a pleasant surprise, I promise," Cal reached for the bottom of her shirt. Gillian raised her arms and allowed him to pull it off over her head. He held her hand tightly as she stepped into the water. Her eyes widened in shock. "What do you think?"

Gillian sank quickly into the water, sighed and leaned back against the bath. "I think you've polished up that armour, sir knight." Her blue eyes flickered towards him.

Cal puffed out, proud. The water was luke-warm. Enough to keep her skin from getting chilly, but not so hot that she would feel light headed or uncomfortable. "Enjoy your bath then," he kissed the top of her head.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm gonna be back," Cal told her casually, slipping out of the room again. He made dessert. Or at least assembled it. It was chocolate sauce and ice cream, with marshmallows and fresh blue berries, now that they were coming in to season. Cal had ice cream and blue berries only.

"You really are in the mood for spoiling me," Gillian said with eyes wide in pleasant surprise as she raised her hands out of the water to take the bowl.

"I'm hopin' you'll return the fave-a late-a," Cal wiggled his eyebrows over a mischievous grin, settling himself cross legged on the floor.

"I thought we had already negotiated in favour of that." Gillian took her first mouthful.

"Just makin' sure I sweeten the deal."

Gillian giggled.

"I just want you to see how much I do actually appreciate you." Cal swallowed his mouthful of ice cream. "I'm not always very good at expressin' that."

"Hmm," Gillian mused.

"Especially cos of the baby."

Gillian gave him a tight smile of agreement. She wasn't going to rub it in, but she whole heartedly agreed and he felt a little worse for being such a dick.

"But you shouldn't stay in there too long," Cal told her. Even though he knew the buoyancy would be doing wonders for her back and feet and the cool water would help keep her internal temperature down. "You'll get too cold."

"I know," Gillian sighed.

"I'll swap the bath for a back rub."

Gillian's eyebrows rose in interest. "You better spoil me like this on my birthday too."

'_How sad_,' Cal thought, that he could do a few nice things for her, stuff that he did on a daily basis (cook dinner, rub her feet) and she would consider herself spoiled, because he happened to do them all at once. She deserved so much better than that. Hadn't he promised her he would be a better man for her? That he would fight everyday to prove that he deserved to be with her? He filled his silence by slowly sucking on his ice cream.

"You know you really can be sweet when you try."

"Yeah, when I try," Cal agreed softly. He saw Gillian's miniature frown. He finished his dessert. "All right. Ready to get out?"

Gillian put her last spoonful in her mouth and scraped down the bowl.

"Want to lick it too?" Cal teased.

"Don't tempt me."

Cal took their plates back to the kitchen, chucked them in the dishwasher, and now that it was full set it to run. Then he went back to the bathroom and helped her out of the water, taking her weight so she was steadier on her feet. The bump out the front upset her balance, which was also compounded by her shifting hips. It was funny, this was the second time that Cal had been through a pregnancy and he hadn't read one baby book in the last eight months, and yet he remembered every aspect. He remembered Zoe complaining about how much her back ached, how she couldn't remember what was on the shopping list, or how the sight of red meat made her feel sick. Gillian didn't complain, but Cal knew anyway. He knew because he had experienced this before, but also because he could read the moments of discomfort on her face and confusion when she went to find something that wasn't there. So sub-consciously, Cal kept her phone with him, wrote down the shopping list, kept extra avocados in the house because she craved them, made sure there weren't oranges in her vicinity, because they made her queasy, just the smell of them; made sure she had a pillow under the baby while she slept and rubbed her feet and back every time she stopped moving long enough for him to get to her.

They moved to the bedroom. Cal helped her dress in pyjamas. The top didn't button over her belly anymore, and she was too hot, so she wore one of the skin tight tank tops that showed every curve and bump on her body. She only wore them at home or under a button up shirt at work. Cal liked them. A lot. He could see everything.

"Stop staring at me," Gillian huffed lightly.

"You wear that and expect me not to stare?" Cal asked innocently. He crossed to Gillian's dresser and picked out a body lotion that was high in vitamin E; supposed to be good for stretch marks. Cal turned towards the bed. "How am I gonna rub your back with that on anyway?"

Gillian was about to lie back. She sat up straight again and pulled the shirt off over her head, ruffling her hair. She hugged it to the front of her body and dropped heavily to the mattress, on her side, her bare back exposed to Cal's side of the bed. Cal admired the curve of her shoulders and hips for a second and then climbed up behind her.

"I'm so tired," Gillian murmured.

"Tough business this growin' someone else," Cal supplied.

"Yeah," Gillian agreed, curling her bare arm around a pillow and burying her face in it.

"You warm enough luv?"

"Yes," her response was slightly muffled.

"All right. Ready?"

"Yes," Gillian sing-songed.

Cal poured a generous helping of the lotion into his palm, snapped the lid back on with his right hand and threw the bottle out of his way. He leaned in closer to her and spread the lotion onto both hands, then pressed them against her back. He watched her face carefully as he ran his fingers firmly up the length of her spine. Her eyes were closed but he could see them shift under her eyelids. A little crease formed between her eyebrows and she groaned in the back of her throat. Cal moved back.

"Ohhhh god that feels so good," Gillian murmured.

"You're supposed to be relaxin'," Cal told her pleased at her reaction. Which was why he had started with her lower back. Her shoulders were where she held her tension. If he started there she would just tense up even more and then relax. Starting with her lower back meant he could get her body ready for the amount of pressure he was using and technique.

"I am," Gillian muttered.

"Am I bein' too firm?"

"No."

But Cal could see that. The frown was from surprise, not discomfort. Gillian turned further onto her stomach, hugging the pillow closer against her chest, exposing her back more to Cal. He could reach much better now.

"Mmm that feels really good," she almost whispered. "I knew there was a reason why I married you."

"Just one?"

Gillian smiled. "One or two."

"Oh excellent, I've picked up an extra point."

"Definitely getting big points today."

Cal felt her muscles relax under his fingers. He started working to the sides of her spine.

"I think I could fall asleep," Gillian murmured.

"I haven't finished yet," Cal said in a gentle tone. He rubbed his thumbs along the back of her hips, watching her face for the tiny shifts of muscles that told him he was in the right places.

"You know the thing about guys? We're hard wired to be independent. We want to rebel against everythin'. We want to be tough to prove we can look afta ourselves. So we shy away from authority and women, which is ironic, because, unless we're gay, they're the number one type of person we're tryin' to impress."

Cal paused, checked she was listening. She cracked her eyes open at him. "When a guy dates a woman he knows he has to be nice to her, othawise he won't have a chance in hell. When he finally wins her ova, all that nice stuff stops because not only do we think that was enough, us guys are arrogant enough to think that the object of our desires will neva leave because they love us. They'd only be hurtin' themselves right?"

Gillian didn't respond. She simply listened.

"Women tell men they're idiots. And I'll tell you why. Men are nice so women will fall in love with them. Then they stop. But it's that nice compassionate guy that they fell in love with and when that disappears, women fight to get it back. They constantly strive to have their man be nice to them. That's all they want. They consida doin' the dishes nice. Buyin' flowas, cookin' dinna, clearin' their research off the dinin' room table."

Gillian seemed to perk up slightly, suddenly realising the conversation had a point to it. A very specific point.

"The worst of it is, you're havin' my baby. I think the absolute least I could do is clean my stuff off the table."

"I didn't mean to nag."

"It's not about that. I read those baby books too once upon a time. I know you don't think I do, but I've read them. I know what you're goin' through. Not literally, of course, but theoretically."

He was going to make a point to read the books.

"Are you apologising?" She seemed surprised.

"Tryin'."

"You do a very good job of it."

"I'm tryin' to be nice."

"When you want to, you do a very good job of being nice."

"I know, but when I want to right? I look at you and I think 'my god, what is a woman this beautiful and amazin' and intelligent doin' with a scruff like me'?"

"I like the scruff."

"I'd be absolutely insane to do anythin' to mess it up. I know you love me but I know you have limits. I've walked right up to them before."

Gillian looked surprised again. "You knew you got close?"

Cal nodded. "Yeah I knew. Anybody with self-respect has limits."

"Are you telling me you pushed those limits to see what I would put up with?" Eyes narrowed slightly in anger.

"Abosultely not. I'm sayin' I pushed my luck with you before but I neva want to push you ova the edge. I'm sayin' sorry for bein' such a pratt sometimes."

Gillian's expression softened. His last comment hung thickly in the air. She shifted her hand to give his arm a squeeze. "You know I've always forgiven you."

Cal gave a light smile. He could see that expression of adoration he associated with her love for him.

"Why tell me all of that?" Gillian asked next.

"I want you to see me and all my imperfections because I'm not afraid of them anymore. The more you see me, the more I see that you love me."

"I really do love you."

"I know."

He spent ten long minutes working her lower back and then gradually smoothed his hands higher to the back of her ribcage. He had to resupply with lotion and started on her shoulders. She did tense up for a second as his hands curled over her scapulas but she relaxed again pretty quickly, letting out another little moan as more tension was eased away.

"Do you spend all day this wound up?" Cal asked softly.

"Mm," was the only response he got.

Cal thought about implementing a daily rub down. He quite liked the idea of it. It was the perfect way to instigate some serious touching without her getting annoyed with him. And anything that gave him unlimited access to her beautiful body was definitely a good thing. And he could be a pervert and make her feel good at the same time.

After ten minutes at the top of her back Cal ran his hands down the length of her spine again, long slow strokes to finish up. He noticed Gillian's breathing was regular and slow. Cal removed his hands, sat back on his feet and waited. She didn't move or register a reaction. He leaned over her. "Are you asleep sweetheart?" He murmured near her ear.

"Mm."

Cal kissed her temple then climbed carefully off the bed and washed his hands in the en suite. He put the body lotion back where he had found it and got a thin blanket from the hall cupboard to drape over Gillian, seeing as she was lying on top of the covers. Then re-set the coffee machine to make him a few cups in the morning, turned off lights, made sure the door was locked, stripped down to his underwear and got into bed. He turned off the lamp and settled back on his pillow, thinking about what he had done right that day and what he still had to work on. Changing habits could be done, but it was going to take a lot of conscious decision making.

"Love you," Gillian's sleepy voice came through the darkness.

"Love you too," Cal whispered back and closed his eyes.


	15. Chapter 15

"How can we be out?" Cal went to the freezer disbelievingly.

"Because we are."

Cal pulled open the door. There was a mark on the bed of the freezer where the cardboard ice cream carton had once stood. There was a mound of frost around the outline of a perfect circle. "Have you been sneakin'?"

"No," Gillian feigned offence.

"Why didn't you tell me soona?" Cal didn't have to turn and look at her to see the guilt. He could hear it. And besides, if he hadn't finished the last of the ice-cream, that could only logically leave Gillian. He turned anyway, closed the freezer door. "I was gonna do the shoppin' tomorrow." It was late, he didn't want to go out again.

"Can you go now?" Gillian gave him puppy dog eyes.

Cal leaned on the bench, took in her hopeful expression. "You're very hard to say no to. Did you know that?"

Gillian gave him an indulgent smile. "I did wonder," she said lightly. "Why doesn't it work at the office though?"

"Your powers are neutralised by the presence of othas."

Gillian laughed. "So, nice attempt at trying to distract me. Will you go and get me ice cream or not?"

"Yeah," Cal sighed. He hung his head. "I'll go." Then he pushed off the bench. "Any flave-a in particula?"

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up. "Um, chocolate."

"Typical," Cal muttered moving around the bench.

"The one with the chunks of fudge in it."

"All right," Cal took note. He headed for the door. "I won't be long." He took his keys from the table in the hallway and ducked through the internal garage door. He backed down the drive and hit the button for the garage door to close and just as he was about to pull onto the street he realised he had forgotten his wallet. Cal put the car into drive and eased up the driveway again. He slammed the car door behind him and moved towards the front path, searching through his key ring for the front door key, figuring it would be less hassle than sending the garage door up again.

Something heavy jumped on him from behind. His knees buckled under the weight and he almost fell to the ground. Then something pummelled him in the back, hard, deftly striking a kidney. Cal dropped his keys as the pain made a ripple through his abdomen, forcing his muscles to contract, and they made a distinct clattering sound on the paved pathway. He was stunned for a second, not sure who or what was going on.

'_Fight back_.'

He struggled wildly, hoping to throw whoever was on his back over his shoulder. It didn't quite work, for whoever it was had their left arm hooked around his neck and as he jerked back and forth the limb slipped, cutting into Cal's throat. He moved his arms up to push the body away, grabbing for that arm. He could tell the person was male, based on the solid build and heavier muscled weight. The other man didn't make a sound as the two of them struggled awkwardly in the dark. Cal thought about calling out and then thought better of it. He didn't want to drag Gillian into this. Gillian! Heavily pregnant Gillian, who was two days away from entering her last month. What if someone else was inside right now? Attacking her?

Cal threw a wild punch; panicked now. He needed to get to Gillian. He needed to get free. His fist connected with air only. The man rapidly ducked back out of the way and Cal could see he was wearing black clothes and a balaclava over his head. It was hard to tell height because whoever it was hunched over, preparing himself for the next attack.

Cal readied himself for the charge, his heart pounding wildly, but despite that, he was not ready for the elbow that struck him in the diaphragm. He was usually a much better fighter than this. He knew how to put his weight behind a punch so the force was twice as hard. He knew how to hook someone around the ankles to knock them off their feet. But the elbow knocked the air out of him with an 'ommph' and he felt himself tipping backward. His head struck the path way too hard and for a second he was staring at nothing but blackness. He started to think about who the person was, why the hell they were there and why they were attacking him. Then he could see stars, literal stars, not metaphorical stars, and the spouting around the top of the roof. He realised he was just lying there, stunned for a second. And then he felt a sharp pain in his neck. A needle prick. Cal's heart started to thrash wildly. He tried to shunt the person away from him. Tried to fight him off. But his arms were suddenly heavy and then his legs and then his vision clouded over for good. He had his chance, and he had missed it. And the last thing he heard was heavy breathing.

**PJ**

Gillian went to the garage. Cal had been gone a long time. At least an hour. It wouldn't take that long to go down to the store and get a litre of ice cream. She was pretty sure he hadn't gone on foot. She checked the garage to make sure his car was still gone. It was. She went back to the kitchen, found the phone and dialled his number. It took three seconds for it to start ringing under a tea towel.

'_Damn it'_.

She hung it up and tried her phone, seeing as he often had it on him. Another three seconds and that one rang from somewhere else in the house.

'_Damn it.'_

Gillian hung up the phone and put it back on the receiver. She hated it when he made himself unreachable. On a good day it was annoying. Two days before she entered her last month of pregnancy was frustrating and scary. She went to the front window and parted the curtain to look out at the street, as if she could catch him pulling into the driveway. What she saw surprised her though. His car. His car was in the driveway. Gillian stood and stared and waited for him to either come inside or open the garage door. Nothing. Silence. No movement. She waited some more. Then she went to the front door.

The deadbolt sounded loud as she snapped it open. She made sure it wasn't set to lock behind her and slipped out into the cool night. Their house was between streetlights, which made it darker than some front yards. It was hard to tell if anyone was sitting in the car, even when she was right on top of it. She had a terrible sense of foreboding in her stomach. She felt the baby attempt a kick but there wasn't a lot of room to move around in there these days. She ignored it, her attention more focussed on her husband right now. She pulled the car door handle and it opened easily.

What she saw dumbfounded her. The car was empty. It was unlocked and empty and sitting in the driveway. So where was Cal? She looked around. She didn't see anyone and it was very quiet. She checked in the back of the car, then irrationally, or maybe completely rationally, the trunk. The car was definitely empty. Gillian looked around the yard again. There was still nothing to see and it was quiet. Except there _was_ something on the path, something glinting in the light. She walked over to it quickly. They looked like keys. Of course they had to be on the concrete, when she had so much trouble picking stuff up off the ground these days. She went back inside, found a pair of tongs from the kitchen counter and went back. She only had to dip a little way this time.

In her hand, she could see that they were Cal's keys. Now she could panic. Something was very, very wrong. She locked Cal's car with the remote alarm, went inside and locked the door. She was feeling paranoid too, that someone was watching her. She went back to the kitchen and the phone. This was not like last time, when he had just taken off. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't leave his car, unlocked, his keys on the front path. If he was going to take off for a few hours he would have taken his phone and his wallet. He might have even told her this time. If he was going to leave her for good he would have taken his laptop, he would have taken the damn car. With shaky fingers she dialled.

"Reynolds."

"Something's wrong with Cal!"

"Who is this?"

Gillian didn't hear him. "His car is here but he's not here and his keys were on the ground."

"Gillian?" A pause. "Where are you?"

"I'm at home," she realised she had never called him from this number before. Probably why he was asking who she was.

"What's going on?"

"Cal." Gillian said again firmly while her voice waivered to betray her anyway. "Something has happened to Cal."


	16. Chapter 16

Cal woke disorientated. It was far too quiet. And it smelt strange. And come to think of it, he couldn't feel his arms. He tried moving and found he absolutely could not; he was immobilised. Then he realised he couldn't actually see. He turned his head, panicked. It felt like he was lying on his side. There must be something over his eyes. Yeah, he could feel it now. Some sort of material, something scratchy. And there was something in his mouth. It tasted arid. Cal tried moving again. He could feel his arms angled back behind him, bound at the wrists and his legs too, pulled behind him. He felt another, stronger surge of blind panic. His heart beat painfully in his chest and his nostrils flared trying to make a bigger space so he could get more air; fight or flight.

'_Stop_,' he told himself. It was better to not panic. The fear would make his throat constrict and he was already on limited air with his mouth stopped up. He waited while his heart calmed down; he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. All right, the logical thing to do would be to figure out where he was. With his eyes covered it was harder but his ears were still working fine. He listened. Nothing. Great. All right, his nose wasn't covered up either, what could he smell? Earth and dust and beyond that something sweet. Something that reminded him of his childhood... the smell of animal feed. Silage. He must be on a farm or somewhere rural, or at the very least somewhere with animals. He could be in the middle of the city, for all he knew, near a stable.

What else? He felt around with his fingers, which cooperated when he asked them to. His hands were bound with rope. Old school. And it was incredibly coarse and it was already aggravating the skin of his wrists. He could feel a taut length of it leading towards his feet and figured hands and feet must be tied together. He tried pulling his legs straight. The rope quivered and dug in. He was right. And it hurt his shoulders doing that so he relaxed again. What was beneath him? A mattress. Pretty thin though, he could feel the floor beneath that, digging into his hip as he lay. It was uncomfortable and he could roll onto his stomach if it would help, but then he would run the risk of crushing his lungs. And with his arms and legs behind him he couldn't shift on to his back.

There was nothing under his head, like a pillow. As far as he could tell, he was still fully dressed and aside from the ache of the ropes and his muscles from being held in an awkward position, he didn't feel too badly. Whatever had been injected into his blood stream was not giving him any weird side effects. He wondered how far they had travelled while he was out of it. He couldn't discern if it was light or dark, day or night. He assumed he was inside. But he didn't know if it was a house, a barn, a garage, a shed, hell, the boot of a car for all he knew. He assumed he was alone. Either that, or his captor had not noticed him moving around. Or he was in the room and was watching him now. Cal went suddenly still. He strained to listen again, his heart rate going up once more. He could hear birds outside. So it was day. No traffic. Must be rural. As for being alone? Cal only realised he was alone in the room when he heard several doors open and slam shut somewhere nearby.

**PJ**

"You know there's nothing I can do. I can't make this official until forty-eight hours are up," Reynolds was apologetic.

Gillian couldn't stop crying. She really couldn't. She was worried sick. "I don't want to hear that," she practically wailed. "I want you to tell me you've called in a favour from everyone you know and you're doing something to find him!"

"He could walk through that door any minute," Reynolds lowered his voice so it was more meaningful. "There are protocols for this kind of thing."

"He wouldn't just leave like that," Gillian insisted. "He wouldn't."

Reynolds had come over as soon as she had hung up. He admitted the car in the driveway and the keys on the path looked suspicious. He took a small flashlight outside and went over every inch of ground from Cal's car to the front door. He said there was a gash in the grass on one side, probably from a boot, but he couldn't be sure. He waited while she called Emily, who was staying at her mother's for the summer holidays. When she came over, Reynolds left again. Gillian wanted to sit up all night and wait for Cal to come home. And she got close too, falling asleep sometime in the early hours. Emily stayed with her on the couch, made her a cup of tea, got her a blanket, tried to figure out what was going on from Gillian's half formed tear filled sentences.

"I'm sorry Gillian. I wish I could do something more for you," Reynolds had a pleading tone of voice. He had already driven around all the usual places Cal would go, even the ones not technically on the radar. He had gone to every store within a five block radius, flashed Cal's picture around, asked if anyone knew anything. He had made phone calls. He really had done as much as he could. He had gone above and beyond. He was a good friend.

Gillian sniffed, wiped an errant tear from her cheek, tilted her chin up slightly. "I know Ben. I appreciate that. But I just want him here," her voice sounded a lot firmer now.

Ben put a hand on her upper arm. "I'm sorry." It sounded a bit like he was consoling her after a death. Gillian hoped it would not come to that. "I know it's a really tough time." He looked at her very pregnant belly. "You should get some rest."

Gillian nodded, hated that she was being patronised, but forced a smile anyway and thanked him again for his time and concern. Emily showed him to the door. Gillian went to the master bedroom and lay down. On Cal's side of the bed. It smelt like he did. Emily came and knocked on the door lightly. Gillian gave her a smile from the mattress; the morning sun was warm against her back. "Hey."

"You want some company? Or should I go?"

"Company. Definitely."

Because Cal was Emily's father too.

**PJ**

All Cal could think about, was how desperately dry his throat felt, how thick his tongue seemed and how badly he needed the bathroom. He wasn't sure which sensation was worse. He had been left alone for hours. Or at least ignored for hours. The slamming door had lead to an engine starting and a vehicle pulling away. Cal didn't hear the crunch of gravel so figured it was a dirt driveway. And by the sound of the revelations of the engine, it was in the vicinity of a three litre engine; diesel. It was so quiet, wherever he was. He listened carefully for the sound of someone, or anything, else. No more birds. Must be night time.

Any saliva Cal's dry mouth managed to produce was immediately soaked up by whatever was wadded into his mouth. He had already lost track of how long he had been there. He only knew that it had been day before (because of the birds) and now it was night (because there were no birds). So somewhere between one and twenty four hours. Considering it had been night when he had been attacked (and how he wished now he had called out, made some sort of noise in the least; the neighbours might have heard him), and then day when he woke up the first time, and now night again, Cal figured it had been closer to twenty four hours. Hopefully, they were starting to look for him now.

God he was so thirsty and he needed to pee so desperately.

He needed a distraction. A name floated to mind. He pushed it away. No, he didn't want to think about her right now; he would seriously lose it if he did. Cal shifted and strained and awkwardly brought himself on to his knees with much effort and not a small amount of pain. No one came to shove him back against the floor, so he took that as encouragement. Cal shifted himself forward in a shuffling movement of his knees, down off the mattress on to the floor. It was wooden. Cal headed towards his left, shuffling forward a few inches at a time. He tried to move too quickly and lost his balance, falling forward and turning his head at the last minute so he didn't smash his face. His head struck the floor hard and he lay for a second, heart pounding, head throbbing, feeling frustrated; and he desperately needed to pee. He forced himself up again, back to his knees and shifted forward again until he struck the wall. Then he angled his body so his shoulder was against the wall and followed it up over the mattress to the corner. Then he followed the next wall down the length of the mattress, back on to the wooden floor to the next corner. He followed the pattern until he had passed by the door, and a window, and found his way back to his temporary bed. There was no other furniture in the room.

All right, that had worked nicely. He hadn't thought about needing to go to the toilet for about fifteen minutes. But now it was back in full force and Cal decided he couldn't take it any longer; his bladder or his kidneys were going to burst. He shuffled across the floor on his knees, blind until he found the opposite corner, the one, in his mind's eye, that must be opposite where he had been lying. He rested his head against the point where the two walls met. He sucked air in through his nostrils, the smell of dust stronger now that he had been moving around. He could even feel his kidneys aching now that he thought about it (he shouldn't have thought about it). He really didn't want to do this. He couldn't think of anything worse, anything more humiliating. He pulled his arms again, hoping to find a weakness in the bindings. All it did was make his shoulders ache even more. Cal let go. He felt the hot liquid run down his leg to his knee. Most of it would probably get absorbed into his jeans (oh god, wet jeans!) but at least he was going to remain somewhat humane. He wasn't going to shit in the place he slept. Or urinate. Whatever.

A minute later Cal turned, wet, embarrassed, despondent and moved back to his mattress. He threw himself down, hit his head on the wall again, and felt his parched throat burn with a new frustration. Anger. That was good. It was better to be angry than despondent. Anger would serve him much better. It would fuel his muscles when it came to fight. It would power his brain into overdrive so he could find a way out of this situation. Anger would stop him from breaking down in tears.


	17. Chapter 17

It was day time again when Cal took his first beating. He must have slept at some point because he was startled awake by the door slamming back and boots on the wooden floor. Those same boots slammed into his stomach and ribs, his throat and knees and when he turned over to protect his balls, his kidneys and back, his ribs and his head. He could hear the occasional grunt of his assailant from the effort of the blows. The kicks to Cal's head made white lights bloom behind his eyes and there was nothing he could do to stop them; he couldn't cry out or beg. Cal suspected his assailant tired before he did because the man suddenly stopped. The scuff of his boots told Cal he had taken a few steps away. Then Cal could hear heavy breathing (but that might have been his own). Then a sniff, more scuffing and suddenly he was gone again, the door slamming shut behind him.

Cal didn't move; he couldn't. Even though it felt like every inch of his body but his balls was throbbing disturbingly; he felt nauseated but hoped he wasn't going to throw up; there was nowhere for it to go but back down his throat (and that thought made his stomach feel worse). He could feel a sticky warmth on his fingers, figured his body flinching and recoiling had finally rubbed the raw skin around his wrists into open wounds. Now he could worry about infections too. But he couldn't feel warm stickiness anywhere else so hoped he didn't have a profuse gash. After awhile the throbbing died down but the dull aching didn't; his breathing evened out again, his stomach settled. He couldn't hear anything else from around him. Just the birds that helped him keep track of day and night, of roughly how many hours he had been gone. Taken.

His mind was drifting back to Gillian (and maybe sleep) when the door opened again. He was pulled to his knees and the ropes cut. If Cal hadn't been in so much agony, if his arms weren't completely dead from being held behind his body for so long, or crippled from the beating he had just taken, he would certainly have tried to fight the offender away. Cal was pulled this way and that so he was disorientated about the direction he was facing. The last touch he felt from the other man was when he was propped up on his feet. But Cal's legs were so weak, just like his arms that he crumpled to the floor again almost immediately. His arms were simultaneously wrenched upwards by the ropes that had never left his wrists; they cut into his wounds so painfully Cal almost voiced the sharp sudden searing soreness. But he wasn't going to give that wanker the satisfaction.

Then the cover on his eyes was pulled off roughly, tearing at Cal's ear on the way and the door slammed shut again, reverberating around Cal's head. He kept his eyes closed for a long time, firstly allowing them to adjust to the light without the blindfold, and then he pried them open one at a time, taking bleary snippets of the room in until he could stand to have them open against the light, even if he had to squint. The room was tiny, much smaller now that he could see it than what he had imagined in his mind. The mattress was on the floor in front of him. Opposite, behind where Cal faced, was the window. The sun was still coming in, but the light was orange, it was late afternoon. Cal looked up to see his bleeding wrists bound by the rope, which was extended by another long length to a very sturdy looking hook in the wall, high above his head. It would have been high above his head even if he had been standing. The wallpaper was faded, a floral print. The floorboards grey from sun bleaching and many feet and many years. This room was old.

Cal got to his feet shakily. The hook was definitely above his head even on his feet. He reached up for it, trying to make contact. He tried wiggling the rope, hoping the hook might come away from the wall, or that maybe he could unhook the rope. All it did was make his wrists bleed harder; steaks of it travelling down his arms, under the sleeves of his shirt. He stopped, the pain sharp and intense and turning his stomach again. Cal turned where he was standing and kicked a bucket with his foot. He looked down, surprised. No shoes. Where had his shoes gone? The blue bucket was full of water. Hanging over the side was a dark green washcloth. Cal's first thought was that he could have a drink. But then his hands had limited movement and he still had a gag in his mouth. He would worry about it later. He quickly deduced he didn't have enough rope to reach the window (for an attempt at escape maybe, or just to see). He turned again, backed up toward it, stretched is arms out in front of him and peered over his shoulder.

He was up high. An attic; the roof sloping towards the window. And this was a farm house. Less than ten meters away a classic red barn stood under the shade of an oak tree. The yard in front was dusty. A broken down red tractor sat on deflated tyres on the edge of Cal's vision. Beyond that, he couldn't see anything else. He didn't know where the driveway began, or how far from the road he was. All he could deduce was that he was facing west and the setting sun was still lighting up his room. There were no distinguishable landmarks; he still had no idea where he was.

Cal turned back to the bucket now he knew the window wasn't going to hold any keys in helping him figure out where he was. Cal nudged the bucket towards the wall, directly beneath the hook, where he had the greatest amount of excess rope. He could crouch now and dip his hands in and... what? Scoop water up to his mouth? Pull the gag out? It was bound to his face with more material. He lifted his hands and tried pulling it down. It was on pretty tight. Cal couldn't get a grip on it, couldn't tuck a finger underneath to pull, couldn't grip with his finger tips to tug. He gave up. He was so exhausted and sore and so thirsty, he did not have the patience.

He lowered his head and scooped water to his mouth and pressed it against the material keeping him quiet (who was he going to yell to anyway? No one would hear him). He had to do it several times before he could detect the wetness finally soaking through the other side. He kept going. Finally something was working! He started sucking while he continued to soak and didn't care that there was water running down the front of his shirt or over his stinging wrists. He managed enough liquid to swallow. He had almost forgotten how and he nearly choked. He calmed down and tried again. He managed several good, quenching mouthfuls. That was good. He would rehydrate faster that way than if he had tried gulping the water down. If he drank slowly enough the water would pass into his blood stream almost immediately.

Cal took the washcloth and dunked it under the water. His wrists screamed out and he ignored it; letting the pain and anger build until he would need it. He ran the soaking wet cloth over his face and head. The water trickled down his neck and back. When he pulled it away and dunked again the water in the bucket turned a disturbing red. So his head was bleeding. Hard to tell where. It hurt all over. The second time, Cal wrung the cloth out and wiped his face more carefully, periodically checking for places that were bleeding. His face seemed ok, though his chin hurt from where he had caught that kick. Then Cal tried cleaning his hands a little. But that kind of wrenching of his writs just hurt them more so he gave up on that.

Cal must have spent twenty minutes drinking and cleaning. And still no sign of his abductor. He quickly calculated he could remove his jeans and underwear. His own piss had dried by now but he stank of urine and so did the room. He undid his fly awkwardly and shimmied the jeans down his thighs. His underwear was harder to shed but he kicked it away in disgust with himself. He knelt by the bucket and gave himself a sponge bath as much as possible. He could already see red marks on the back of his legs where bruises would form. There was a particularly tender spot on his right shin where he would probably find another small haemorrhage eventually. But as far as he could tell, while he hurt like hell, there was nothing broken. Thankfully.

Cal thought about washing his jeans, decided he didn't want to put them on wet so pulled them back on stiffly. Wishing he could have more water, Cal nudged the bucket back into the middle of the room, as far as he could with his toe. Then he balanced on one foot, angled his right foot and kicked the bucket over. The water sloshed into the corner he had peed in. Then Cal sat down on the floor against the wall, exhausted, in so much pain he thought he might not be able to get through it and watched the last of the sun creep up the wall and finally disappear, leaving him in shadows.

**PJ**

Cal thought he had heard something but by the time he had snapped his head back and realised his assailant was in the room, something rough was being stuffed over his head. Cal shot out a leg to try and knock him off balance, his energy reserves firing, the anger boiling up. And then he felt the sharp prick of a needle in his neck and his arms and legs felt heavier than ever before. As he passed into unconsciousness again, all he could think was '_no!_'

**PJ**

Gillian woke groggy, feeling like she'd had no sleep. She checked the time. It was late in the morning. She rolled awkwardly off the bed and moved towards the door. Then she realised what had woken her up. She needed the toilet badly. She caught her reflection as she washed her hands and was startled by the large black marks under her bloodshot eyes. She looked terrible. She hoped wherever Cal was, he was ok. She hoped that his disappearance wasn't on purpose. She would never forgive him, she promised herself. Never. Not for putting her through this. Tears welled up in her already sensitive eyes. Gillian sobbed. She felt the baby squirm. She rubbed her hand over her belly, soothing the both of them. No, whatever had happened, wherever Cal was, he wouldn't do this to her on purpose. Absent minded sometimes, but never cruel. Not to her.

Gillian wiped her eyes, splashed cold water on her face. She felt a little refreshed as she dried her face and went to see where Emily was. She found the young woman reading in the kitchen in Gillian's favourite perch beneath the windows. Emily gave her a typical wide-eyed expression when she came in. "How'd you sleep?" She asked cautiously.

"I actually slept well," Gillian confessed. She wondered how Cal had slept. It was the not knowing that was killing her. Why? Where had he gone? Why? With someone? Why? Alone? Of his own free will? Why? Could he contact her? Why? _Why?_

"Can I make you something to eat?" Emily bookmarked her page, and got to her feet.

"I'm not really hungry," Gillian turned her down. Emily looked perturbed. "But I should eat something I guess. Why don't you make us some breakfast?" Gillian remembered the time. "Or lunch. I'm going to call Ben."

"Ok," Emily agreed.

Gillian took her cell phone into the living room. She found Ben's number in her directory. He answered almost immediately. "It's been forty-eight hours Ben."

"I'm coming over."


	18. Chapter 18

Cal woke up with his hands and feet bound again and the cover back over his eyes. This time, when he started shifting around a little, strong hands grabbed him and pulled him roughly on to his knees. Cal could feel his eyes weren't blacked out by a blindfold, but by the dark scratchy... bag, he supposed. Like an old flour sack. That's what it felt like. He got a fist in the stomach in the next second. It triggered his gag reflex. Lucky there was nothing in his stomach to bring up, otherwise he would be chocking on vomit for sure. Bile burned the back of his throat. Cal swallowed furiously, focusing on dispelling the taste as best he could with a dry mouth. The next strike was to his diaphragm and he felt panicked that he wouldn't be able to catch his breath in time again. He was already on limited air.

He got a fist in the eye in the next second; had to be a lucky strike. He was so stunned by it and the pain it brought that he forgot to hold himself up a little and fell forward into the legs of his captor. Then he was kicked away and fell to the ground. With nothing to break his fall, and his mind and reflexes far too slow to react, his cheekbone struck the floorboards hard. Cal hadn't even had time to protect his nose by turning his head. He immediately felt it start to bleed, the hot blood pouring over his chin and down his neck. He started to really panic then. With his nose blocked up and his mouth gagged he was going to suffocate. He struggled fiercely. The ropes bit down into the already raw wounds on his wrists and a cry built up in his throat that came out muffled through the cloth in his mouth. It had dried over night, or over time; day or night? He didn't know and his tongue was swollen again. He could taste the metal of his own blood in the back of his throat and for the first time in two and a half days, Cal was afraid that he wasn't going to survive this.

There was every chance this psycho was going to beat him to death, in this tiny attic room, overlooking a dusty farm god only knew where. All Cal's self resolve fled. His determination to save his energy and fight deserted him. His methodical gathering of information to share with investigators later seemed impractical. He had been waiting to be found and now there was going to be nothing to find. Gillian would have called the police by now. She would have insisted something was wrong. She would have filed that missing person's report. She would have told Reynolds all about it. He would have the FBI looking for him. They would find evidence of a struggle on the front path. And then... and then... Cal fought to breathe, the fear and panic constricting his throat, the blood gurgling around air he was trying to suck through his busted nose. He was choking. It felt like he was drowning.

They were supposed to find something. Go through the files at work, find someone who would have a grudge against Cal. It would be a long list, that was a given, but he trusted Eli and Ria to go through each case carefully, finding the most likely, narrowing it down as more and more information was gathered. Gillian, probably a mess by now, but determined to help would do a psyche profile and it would be incredibly accurate because she had a knack for seeing people, even if she only knew them by a piece of paper. Eli and Ria would use that profile and compare it against case files and they would find the likely nut job, who was at this moment, killing Cal. Because he was dying, lying there on the floor, bleeding into his throat and all over his chin, while that asshole stood over him and watched. Without air he was going to die and he was rapidly losing the battle to get some.

Food he could survive without for days.

Water a little less.

Air, no time at all; mere minutes.

Gillian was not supposed to have the baby on her own. That was not part of their agreement. Cal had promised her he would be there. Every day. He had never once entertained the idea that she would be a widow. Not when today was exactly one month before her due date. It was on his mind big time. She would never forgive him this. Not if he didn't get back to her. She couldn't do it alone. She pretended that she was fine and that she was taking the baby thing in her stride, but he could see that she was worried. Who wouldn't be with their first child? She read all the books, they went to the birthing classes, she asked questions. She asked Cal questions, about Emily's birth and what she should expect. She told him he was her rock. That if he was with her she would be ok. That when he was with her she felt calmer, safer. She told him that she loved him. So much love from one person. Cal had never experienced anything like it.

If he had any spare liquid in his body, Cal was sure he would have cried. He hadn't even needed to pee again since the first day. That meant every ounce of water was being reabsorbed by his body in its desperate way to keep him alive. As he fought to take his third breath Cal could feel the blood trail down the wrong opening in his throat. He tried swallowing, the action forcing the valve to close off his air pipe, but he was too slow. He started to cough, then to choke, then he gagged and convulsed in his desperate losing battle for oxygen.

**PJ**

Gillian tried, she tried so hard, but there had been no phone calls, nothing to go on, no evidence. She was scared shitless and the tears kept on coming and she was so tired and sore. She didn't want to think about it but it had been three days now that Cal had been gone and the people around her, her brother and sister-in-law, her mother on the phone from San Diego, Ben, Eli, the pessimists, were trying to tell her that he might not be coming back. She should prepare herself for the possibility that he just might not come back. The idea made her sick. Physically sick. Ben wanted her to see a doctor. Gillian refused. Emily quietly voted for the trip to the doctor. Gillian refused. Someone must have rung Doctor Johansson anyway. He made a house call. He told her to get in bed and stay there. Her blood pressure was up. Of course it bloody well was. Her husband was missing. What did they expect her to do? Continue taking afternoon naps and relaxing bubble baths and strolls around the block in the early summer afternoons? She said she would stay on the couch. But that wasn't going to stop her from video calling Ria every half an hour wanting an update as she and Eli and the rest of the staff trawled through their old case files.

Emily fretted and Gillian didn't care. Sometimes she wished the young woman was gone and that she was left in peace. But other times, like late at night, when they were sitting up pretending neither of them were tired, neither of them making the first move towards bed, Gillian was glad for the company. She forgot Cal was her father as well as Gillian's husband. People called constantly, asking about Cal. Had they heard anything? No of course not. If they had, a bulletin would have gone out that he had returned home.

Reynolds let himself in the front door. Gillian had suddenly announced she wanted everyone out of her house. And she had really insisted on it. So the FBI team had moved out to the front lawn, where they had been conversing for the last ten minutes. Gillian could hear their voices, but from the couch, she couldn't see them. The baby shifted inside her. Gillian placed a hand over the spot where she could feel its feet. They knew the sex of the baby. Had known it all along. But they had told everyone they wanted to keep it a surprise. They had even talked about names, surprisingly, the one thing they hadn't bickered over in the last thirty six weeks.

"Gill," Ben spoke gently as he came around the couch, coming in to her line of sight.

Gillian was immediately suspicious. He had guilt in his eyes. "What?" She asked feeling a surge of adrenaline. She didn't know what to think. Had they found Cal? Was he hurt? Was he...?

Reynolds sat on the coffee table. It was Cal's, Gillian thought to herself, missing him. Ben sat near her but just out of arms length. Out of the corner of her eye, Gillian saw Emily look up and listen. "It's been over thirty six hours."

"Don't," Gillian started.

"I can't justify so much man power."

"Don't you dare!"

"I'm sorry. I've done everything I can."

"No!"

"I've spoken to the deputy director, the special assistant director directly. They feel this case is..."

"Wasting your time?!" Gillian accused.

"Ben," Emily cut in. She came over and knelt next to Gillian, putting a soothing hand on her arm. "We're supposed to be keeping her calm."

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not in the room," Gillian accused, shaking the hand free. If she wasn't so pregnant right now...

Ben sighed heavily. He spoke to Emily. "My hands are tied."

"You can't give up!" Emily said alarmed.

"I'm not. But those men out there," Reynolds waved at the front windows. "They have to leave."

Emily opened her mouth to speak but the guttural cry that involuntarily escaped Gillian's mouth stopped them both, frozen in shock. The most excruciating pain ricocheted out from Gillian's uterus. It felt like someone had grabbed a handful of her intestines, stomach and liver and squeezed them up in their fist.

"Jesus!" Ben got to his feet. Emily stayed kneeling but her grip was back on Gillian's arm and it tightened. The pain, whatever it was that had happened, left Gillian in a hot sweat. She had to pant to catch her breath again.

"I'm calling an ambulance," Reynolds announced.

"No," Gillian struggled to re-gather her breath, herself. The pain was suddenly gone. "I'm fine." She turned to Emily. "Really I'm fine."

Ben had his cell phone in hand. "She said she's fine," Emily looked up at the FBI agent. Ben looked reluctant but he closed the phone again. At least Emily was still on her side, Gillian thought. And then she felt something else that put a new fear in her heart. A kick in the ribs. "The baby turned," she said in wonderment and not a small amount of dread. She was getting closer to going into labour then. And where the hell was Cal? "Please," she looked up at Ben. "Please Ben. As a favour to me. Please don't stop looking." She couldn't bring herself to add the 'yet'.

Ben looked down at two expectant faces. He gave a nod and walked away.


	19. Chapter 19

Cal stepped up on the stoop and knocked on the door. This was by far not the first time he had been to Foster's house. But this time it felt a little different. Big life changing things were going on at the moment. His divorce had come through last week finally (and he had celebrated with a bottle of bourbon) and Foster had a baby.

She opened the door a half minute later. "Hey," she gave him a warm smile. She looked tired, like any new mother should be. She ushered him inside.

"Here," Cal unceremoniously dumped his wrapped package in her arms and powered into the house. The baby was in a bassinet on the dining room table. There were already mounds of washing at one end. "What's her name?" He asked very softly, leaning over to see the tiny new born baby.

"Sophie," Gillian whispered back.

"Can I hold her?" He glanced quickly at Foster to check her reaction. She looked worried. "I won't wake her," Cal promised and slipped his hands under the sleeping bundle anyway. He had one hand support her neck, the other to bear the weight of her body and had her in his arms before she barely had time to shift in her sleep.

"You've done that before," Gillian noted gently.

"Once or twice. Gotta make sure they don't know what hit them."

"Sounds like your methods on a few things," Gillian teased.

Cal looked down at the sleeping face. Typical baby features, button nose, full lips, cherub cheeks. A dusting of blonde hair. Interesting. Thin fingers, minuscule fingernails. Sophie snuffled in her sleep. So cute.

Gillian watched Cal hold the baby. His expression, for once, was relaxed and soft. This was a different way of seeing him. In fact, it was strange to see him so still too. He was usually such a torrent of energy, darting all around a room, filling its space. He did that even in her home.

"Gonna open your present?"

"You didn't have to get me anything."

"It's rude to show up empty handed," Cal supplied.

Gillian pulled back the wrapping paper, white stalks on a pink background, to reveal a pack of diapers, new born size. She half laughed. "Thanks. Very practical."

"You can neva have too many of them," Cal explained. "Plus I bet you have a million soft toys and ones-ies."

"I do," Gillian admitted. Anyone she knew or even remotely knew had donated bags of baby clothes, or old toys, or teddy bears, or bibs and all kinds of other things. She had so much stuff at least half of it was currently in storage in the garage. Gillian put the pack of diapers down next to the pile of washing.

"How about a cuppa?" Cal directed turning towards the living room. He hadn't taken his eyes off the baby once yet.

Gillian went to the kitchen to boil water to make Cal's tea. She had more coffee. Couldn't get enough coffee at the moment. Sophie had been with them for just four days. Gillian hadn't heard one word from Cal until now. Not even a phone call to see how she was or if everything with the birth and adoption had gone all right. Typical Cal. Oblivious to the world around him until it suited him. But she had called the office, spoken to Heidi, because it was safer to keep tabs on Cal, even from a distance.

Gillian could hear Cal's voice from two rooms away. A gentle murmuring. She wondered if Alec was home but it was too early. And he never left early. Gillian crept towards the living room and realised Cal was talking to the baby. He was sitting at the end of the couch, chatting away to her about... Gillian listened. Well, about her. She listened more closely. Cal was telling Sophie she had come home to a very sweet caring lady. Gillian pulled back lest she get caught. She definitely liked this side of Cal. With her cheeks warm with a blush she couldn't explain, Gillian went back to the kitchen and made tea, milk, two sugars.

"Ta," Cal took it from her. "You name her Sophie? Or did her birth mutha do that?"

"I picked it," Gillian sat in the armchair, tucking a leg beneath her.

Cal sipped his tea. "Nice."

Gillian wondered if he meant the tea or her name choice.

"Where's Alec?"

"At work."

"Couldn't get time off?"

Gillian didn't answer. If she said 'no', Cal would see she was lying, but she also didn't want to tell him that Alec had volunteered to go. And she was too tired to make up an excuse as to why. The silence was answer enough.

Cal sipped more tea. "Are you adjustin' all right?"

"I don't know."

Cal nodded. "You're doin' all right."

Gillian gave a short laugh. "Can you tell that by reading my face?"

"Nope. If you said you were fine I would have seen that you were lyin'. If you had told me you were fine and you weren't lyin' then I would have taken the baby away for its own safety."

Gillian gave him a frown.

"You're not supposed to know what you're doin'. You're supposed to figa it out on the way. Even if you read a million books on the subject. Babies don't follow rules."

Gillian supposed he was being wise but she didn't miss the dig about the books she had read up on. She had wanted to be prepared. She hadn't had nine months of bonding time with Sophie. She was never going to experience that and so she did the next best thing: read about it. "How's work?"

"Don't you trust me?" Cal super-feigned innocence. His tea must have been cold enough now because he took large gulps.

"No," Gillian told him.

"I haven't burnt the place down."

"Is Eli still there?"

"Yeah, he hasn't quit or anythin'." Cal finished his tea. "And I managed to speak to the mayor on the phone without swearin'." He gave her his 'good boy' smile.

Gillian laughed again. "Well I'm impressed. You _can_ be left alone for a few days."

"Ask me again at the end of the month."

Gillian's smile stayed firmly plastered. Four days and she had actually managed to miss Cal.

Cal leaned forward and put his empty mug on a coaster. "Oop, this one needs a nappy change." He got to his feet, not quite as sprightly with a baby in his arms, but still, he had the energy of a teenager. He barrelled into the nursery, either guessing the correct room or getting lucky.

Gillian followed him. "You don't have to do it," she told him, wanting to cut in, not wanting to be rude to her good friend.

"Gotta keep my practice up." He reached for wipes, a clean diaper, a change of clothes. He opened out the clean diaper, ready for use.

"For what?" Gillian asked amused, watching him carefully.

"When I'm a granddad."

"Emily's barely thirteen!"

"Exactly, so when she's havin' kids at thirty-six I'll need all the practice I can musta." Cal even found the cotton buds Gillian used to clean around the clamped umbilical cord.

"That's a terrible logic," Gillian told him, standing nearby, waiting to pounce.

Cal unwrapped the blanket Sophie had been sleeping in. She was giving signals that she was awake, though her eyes barely stayed open. He pulled it gently from beneath her and gave it to Gillian. It was still warm in her hands. Then he unbuttoned the outfit Sophie was wearing and stripped her completely. She started grizzling, her skin cold now she was naked.

"I know," Cal told her. "It's terrible." He swiftly pulled back the tabs on the diaper. "But I'll be quick." He pulled the old diaper open, wiped the muck away with firm strokes of baby wipes. He tucked the dirtied wipes into the old diaper and moved it out of the way, then quickly brought the new one into place and fastened it again. Then he folded down the top so it wouldn't irritate Sophie's healing belly button and used a cotton bud to gently clear away some of the gunk settling out of the wound. He put the dirty bud with the diaper, then redressed Sophie in clean clothes before turning his attention back to the soiled diaper. He rolled it up and re-stuck the tabs to keep everything contained. He kept one hand on Sophie's belly while he leaned over to put the trash in the bin.

"What did you do that for?"

"I thought that's where the rubbish went," Cal responded, straightening up.

"I meant, you kept one hand on her."

"Don't want her to roll away."

"She's not old enough to roll over."

"Trust me," Cal picked Sophie up, one large hand supporting her neck, and hugged her vertically against his body. "They can move their ass no matta what age." He kissed the baby's head. "Can't you darlin'?"

Sophie opened her mouth at him in response.

"See? She agreed."

"She's hungry."

"That too." Cal stalked from the room. Gillian followed him to the kitchen. He rocked back and forth on his feet, tucking the blanket back around her, while Gillian got formula ready. Another thing she would never bond with Sophie over: breastfeeding.

"So you didn't seem so out of practice with the diapering," Gillian made small talk while she moved around her kitchen. Dishes had found a way of stacking up too, even after she had asked Alec to do them before he left for work.

"It's like the boy scouts motto," Cal answered keeping his eyes on the baby. "Be prepared."

"That's what my mother told me."

"She should be a seasoned expert."

Gillian thought about her brother and his wife, pregnant for the first time. It was a girl. He was so disappointed. He really wanted a son. Matthew had asked Gillian what she wanted. And Gillian's response had been one of the most honest responses she had ever given. She didn't care, so long as she had a baby.

"But she didn't show me about getting the next diaper ready first."

"Saves time and my ears." Cal looked over at her. "From the cryin'." He explained. "Wait till this one really develops her lungs."

Gillian smiled. "Her lungs are plenty loud enough at three a.m."

"Plus, the fasta you get the new one on there, the least likely it is that you'll get wet."

"Wet?"

"You mean Sophie hasn't peed on you yet?"

Gillian laughed. "No. Did Emily pee on you?" She measured out formula while she waited for water to boil.

"Couple of times. See I had to learn the hard way."

"How did she manage to pee on you?" Gillian put the formula away. "You know, being a girl after all."

"Trust me, it can really powa outta there," Cal said earnestly. "I even got shat on once."

Gillian really laughed this time. "Emily pooped on you?"

"Yeah. We had her home for less than a day and it must have been the liquid diet or somethin' cos I tell you, I have neva seen diarrhoea like that eva again. The stuff just shot outta there, all down the front of my dressin' gown."

Gillian laughed harder. Sophie grizzled.

"I felt like cryin'," Cal finished.

"That's priceless," Gillian wiped a tear from her eye. "Remind me to thank Emily for that next time I see her."

"See now your Mum," Cal directed this comment to Sophie. "She looks all sweet on the surface but undaneath she's vicious."

"I like the sound of that."

Cal whipped his head around in surprise.

"Your mom."

"I said 'mum'," Cal corrected. Gillian gave him an unimpressed expression. She screwed the lid on the bottle and shook it up making sure it had mixed fully. "Livin' room?" Cal questioned where she did her feeding. Gillian nodded and led the way. She set up in the armchair. Cal finally handed the baby over.

"But you are her Mum." He stood over her and watched her while she fed her daughter. "You'll be all right luv. You'll be a great Mum. You already are."

"Thanks Cal," Gillian felt the compliment in her heart. She looked up at him and his soft gaze.

"I gotta go. But if you need anythin'. You know where I am." Cal kissed her cheek quickly and backed out of the room.

'_Yeah_,' Gillian thought. '_Most of the time I know where you are_.'


	20. Chapter 20

Cal knew something was wrong before he had even gotten in his car and driven over. The fact that he had to call her three times in a row before she answered. The fact that she had been dodging his calls for the last two days. The strained tone of her voice as she said she was fine, that she simply hadn't heard the phone; the way her voice trailed off in one big fat lie. And then the sound of Alec's voice in the background, harsh, demanding. Something was clearly going on and Cal had found himself in his car on his way to her house without giving much thought to the fact that he was butting into her life when she blatantly, clearly and so often asked him to stay out of it!

Gillian parked her car in the single garage because she had the baby. And Alec parked to the side of the driveway. Cal was actually relieved to see his car was not in its usual place when he pulled up. It would be easier to deal with Gillian's reaction to his intrusion alone; not compounded with Alec's incredulity that Cal continued to make himself the third wheel in their relationship. He couldn't help it, couldn't stop himself. Why? He didn't quite know. He knew it was to do with Gillian. He was drawn to her like moths to a fluorescent light bulb; like a heroin addict to the next high. Because that was what it felt like being around Gillian Foster. Like Cal wanted to do something dangerous just to be near her.

Cal left his car on the street and strode swiftly up to the front door. He had no doubts about letting himself in. The house was silent. No cry of the baby. He found Gillian on the kitchen floor. She seemed surprised to see him, for just a second, before she frowned and asked him what he was doing there.

"Are you all right?" Cal ignored her. She didn't appear to be hurt; no bruises, no broken crockery, no sign of a fight. Alec didn't seem like the violent type, but then who knew what he was capable of when pushed to his limit. How did anyone know until they were pushed to their limits?

"Yes," Gillian sounded annoyed now. She got up off the floor and Cal could she had been crying.

"You're not hurt?" Cal got close. Into her space to see her face properly. Bawling her eyes out by the look of it. Red eyes, puffy discoloured skin; the tip of her nose pink.

"No!" Definitely annoyed. "What are you doing here Cal?" She asked again, patiently, taking a step away from him.

He didn't like that the house was so quiet. He followed her. "Where's the baby?"

Gillian just stared at him, her face a mixture of shock and anger. He could see her blue eyes clearly weighing up what to tell him and what not. She took another step backward.

"Is she with Alec?" Cal asked again, taking another step closer. He felt like he had walked in on the middle of a crime. No, seriously. Everybody acting suspicious, but trying to pretend nothing was going on; the mechanics of their brains wondering how much he knew, what they could pass off as being nothing, whether they should take him along as a hostage. He could see Gillian debating whether she should tell him, how much to tell him, or whether she should just tell him to get out.

"No," Gillian answered shortly, as if the word hurt her to say. And then she tried swallowing a sob and then she blurted, "she's gone."

"What do you mean she's gone?" Cal got closer, could see the well of tears, the dusting of her freckles.

"Her mother changed her mind."

"_You're_ her mutha."

"Not anymore," another sob. Cal watched as her face crumpled. He was a smart man. He could work out what had happened. The birth mother had changed her mind, wanted little Sophie back. So cruel. To leave it so long, right up to the last minute, when Gillian and Alec had built their lives around their daughter...

Gillian brought a hand up to cover her face. She was ashamed. Ashamed to be crying in front of him. Cal closed that last foot of distance and attempted to put his arms around her. She struggled, tried pushing him away, fought him, scratching a fingernail on his forearm, trying to fend off his hands. "That's it luv," Cal told her gently. "Lash out at me."

She tried again, her frustration vocalised in her throat. And then she quickly succumbed, as if realising he was twice as strong as her and twice as determined. Her head came down to Cal's shoulder and her arms wrapped around the back of them. They had hugged fairly frequently. Gillian was a hugger and a comforter. But when she was upset she always pushed him away.

Cal brought a hand to the back of her head. Her hair was very soft. Then he rubbed her back. And then, starting to feel uncomfortable about hugging another man's wife in their kitchen, a woman he cared about very deeply and he was sometimes sure, not completely platonically (after all, why would he come over tonight?), he gently pried her away. He held her out at arm's length. He studied her face and she turned away, ashamed again. Ashamed about what? It left a bad taste in Cal's mouth. "What are you ashamed about?"

"I'm not," Gillian tried. She put some distance between them again. Cal tried following but she ducked around the end of the kitchen bench. Now they had a physical boundary too. Probably for the best.

"Where's Alec?" Cal tried changing tact. Just because her face wasn't bruised didn't mean he hadn't hurt her. Cal felt a terrible clawing of protectiveness. Five years his business partner, seven years his friend, and Cal had started to walk a very dangerous knife's edge of fantasising about more. He didn't know how he had let it happen and he tried to stop it often but it was like the more he resisted the more persistent those thoughts and feelings became. "Where is he?" He asked again.

"He went out ok?" Gillian told him annoyed.

"When did they come and get Sophie?" He could see she didn't want to answer him and by not responding, he got his answer anyway. Tonight. They had come tonight and Alec had... acted the coward he was and taken off, possibly before, during, but mostly likely as soon as it was over.

Gillian suddenly grabbed Cal's arm. "Leave it. Please?" Her eyes begged harder than her tone did. "It's between Alec and I." Not her usual demand for him to butt out. This was more of a plea.

Cal swallowed hard, found a lump of anger there that surprised him. Probably shouldn't have. He never liked Alec. Had never thought he was good enough for a woman like Gillian. In the beginning, Cal had respected her line (not that they had officially had one back then). He had stayed out of it. He had kind of hoped their relationship would fizzle out of its own accord. And then it had gotten more complicated because his fighting with Zoe had intensified almost overnight. He had been distracted with attempting to keep his marriage afloat. Then the trouble at the Pentagon and he was out on his ass and begging Gillian to come and work with him, loving her intelligence and they way she knew exactly what was going on his head, that at times also scared him. The next thing he knew she was engaged, then married, then trying for a family. It was like he had missed his chance. What chance? He was married back then for god's sake. And now? Now she was and what was he going to do?

He stared at the vulnerability on her face, the anguish, the uncertainty and decided, with a heavy heart, that he really would leave it alone. Not only was it not his place, but he respected her too much to interfere. She loved Alec, she wanted to be with him, she had made her choice. Was it Cal's fault she couldn't see what a pratt he was? Could he really convince himself to be that callous?

"He'll be back soon," Gillian added in a quiet voice. A tone that was unsure, lying, but hoping he would buy it. She was a terrible liar.

Cal moved more purposefully around the bench this time and Gillian didn't shrink out of his way. She even let him step right up to her. He kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered, leaving it at those two words. Gillian nodded while her nose turned red. She was trying not to cry. He wanted to tell her to call him if she needed something, anything, a shoulder, an ear. But wasn't that what Alec was for?

Cal headed for the kitchen door. "Gill."

She turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised, expectant.

Whatever Cal was going to say fled from his mind. Even crying she looked gorgeous. Cal was going to have to try harder at denying what he was feeling for her. It was just going to end badly. For him, more than likely.

As it turned out Cal didn't need to say anything. Gillian nodded. She understood everything he wanted to say: get some rest, I'm so sorry, Alec shouldn't have left you alone, don't come into work tomorrow, it'll hurt like hell but you'll get over it eventually, you're strong, you've still got me... every lame sentiment he refused to voice because it would never be enough. She gave a slight smile. Very slight. Cal almost missed it. "Thanks Cal. You're a good friend."

He gave a nod, stepped out of sight, made it all the way down the hall way and out the front door before he felt the sting of her words. Friend. That was all he was ever going to be to her. A good friend.


	21. Chapter 21

Cal felt like he had been under water for a very long time and suddenly broke free to the surface. He took a huge gulp of cold air through his mouth and nose and then started choking, coughing, gagging, his shoulders convulsing, tugging on the ropes on his wrists, reminding him harshly where he was and what was happening. His nose was blocked and when he sucked in air, he had snorted back congealed blood into his throat. But he was glad his mouth was clear because if it hadn't been for that he would have surely choked to death, if not before, probably now. He used his gag reflex to bring whatever was in the back of his throat into his mouth and unceremoniously spat it across the room, as far away from himself as he could possible get. And then he realised, not only was his mouth clear from the gag, his eyes were unencumbered too.

The room was dark, the door wide open. Cal was on the floor, where he had fallen, his face still mashed against the wood. Through moonlight he could see the dark shade of his own blood on the floorboards. Cal stopped shifting around and listened. He could hear the very faint murmur of something in the background. A TV if he had to guess, because he could hear the occasional jingling music of an advertisement. The TV was on. He could make noise! He shifted himself up into a kneeling position, the pressure on his knee caps almost unbearable. But he was renewed with an energy based on his stores of anger. He had had enough of this bullshit. He was going to try something, anything to help himself. Every hour that he spent here was another hour he imagined Gillian in hospital potentially giving birth. And he had promised her.

He had promised her.

Cal looked up at the hook. Too far away. What else? He shuffled towards the open door. The insert that fit into the door frame had a sharp edge. But the door would swing around, it would take a very long time, and it was the wrong height; Cal couldn't stand. He needed to think again. What else did he have? A belt buckle he couldn't get to. A knife would be handy, cell phone... '_Stop it'_. He took a deep breath, tried to relax, to think clearly around a fuzzy dehydrated brain. His shoulders ached. His ribs, his kidneys, his legs, his wrists stung, his head pounded, his nose, eyes, face. He noticed for the first time his eyesight seemed blurry, but that was hard to confirm in silvery moonlight.

The door was wide open. He could leave the room. Which was dangerous in itself. Because if the bastard assailant came back Cal couldn't launch himself at the mattress and pretend he had been lying there the whole time. And with his hands bound, there was no way Cal could get far, or defend himself, or do much of anything outside the room anyway. He could break a window, hope a sharp edge was left behind and he could use it to cut the ropes. Breaking a window had the potential to bring attention. He wondered how loud the TV was, decided he didn't really have time to go and check. It wasn't like he could just nip downstairs for a second. Cal moved over to the window. Breaking it might be worth the possibility. He would have to smash his head into it though; it wasn't like he could get an elbow or foot there. Then he ran the risk of cutting his face. Head wounds bleed profusely, but that didn't mean he was in danger of bleeding out. So long as he didn't nick one of the veins or arteries in his neck. And considering he hadn't had anything to drink in a while, his blood would probably be thick...

Would he even be able to reach the window? Cal got closer and closer until he was underneath it. Being in the attic was suddenly a blessing. The ceiling tapered off quite abruptly, the window was low. Cal could reach it with his head easily. In fact, now that he could look out of it properly, he could see the asshole attacker's truck. He could see where the driveway led off. If he pressed his face against the glass, Cal could even see the headlights of a car on the road. His heart leapt with joy, optimism, hope. The road was right there.

'_Focus_,' he told himself. He tapped the glass with his head to see how thick it was. If it was double glazed he was going to have a harder time. But if it was the original glass there was a chance it had dropped. Glass was more liquid than solid, over time gravity would have its way and the top would become thin, the bottom thicker. It seemed pretty solid. Cal felt a small pang of disappointment. He tried to ignore it. Escaping was not going to be easy, he reasoned with himself but he had to do something. He was a man of action and he didn't like just lying around waiting to get the snot kicked out of him again. Besides, he had promised Gillian. Promised her. He always kept his promises.

Cal steeled himself, waiting for a particularly noisy burst of television, or at least, what seemed like one; he was having a hard time focussing. He thought now that he should have closed the door, but he couldn't be bothered, and was excited now, just wanted to get this over with. He balanced himself on his knees carefully and drew his head and shoulders back. He took a deep breath and lunged forward, trying to put the force of movement into his head; he aimed high and turned his face. He struck the glass and bounced off it. He didn't even feel it move in the pane. And now his head hurt even more. He lay back on his hands awkwardly, feeling their lump in his back, his muscles burning at being stretched, thinking fleeting thoughts about what had happened in his life that had brought him to this moment, feeling a sting of tears, the throb of his nose, the sting of his wrists, the throb of his body, the sting of shame.

Gillian.

'_Focus on Gillian_!'

"Gillian," he said her name aloud, his voice croaking from mis-use and an over dry throat. Cal worked up some saliva, rubbed it around his teeth and cheeks with his swollen tongue. He swallowed a few times. "Gillian," he said again a little firmer, still barely more than a whisper. He got up again. He sized up the window. He didn't want to try again. And then he noticed something else. He thanked God twice over for his good fortune. The window was a sash. There was a protruding piece of metal that the catch would hook into to hold the window open. He had been lucky to see it. He had been lucky to not strike his head on it, or gouge something out of his arm.

Now, would he be able to reach it?

Determined with a new focus Cal got to his knees once again, ignored the shooting pain from both knee caps and his shoulders, and shuffled right up close to the window. Yes! He could reach it. He turned, angled his hands up behind him, had to lean over slightly so he could feel for the metal. He lined up as best he could and started rubbing the ropes back and forth over the catch. He did it until his shoulders ached so unbearably that he fell to the floor. He sucked in dusty air from the floorboards and listened for signs the TV had gone off. Nothing had changed. He felt for the rope with his fingers. There was a tiny groove. He hoped that was because of his handy work.

Feeling a new wave of energy and determination, Cal got to his knees again, lined up the groove with the metal and rubbed it back and forth again. He kept pushing until his shoulders screamed out in agony and tears prickled his eyes. He fell forward again. It took a long time for the fierce burning of lactic acid to melt away from his shoulder muscles. Cal felt for the groove again. It was definitely bigger. He felt a surge of exhilaration. He repeated the process again and again and again until he felt a pop in his left shoulder, searing hot pain, and it suddenly didn't hurt anymore. He figured that wasn't good. But the rope was literally hanging by a thread now and it gave way when he tugged on it. His feet came away from his hands and he fell to the ground onto his right shoulder, registering that something was wrong with his left, but not being able to comprehend it fully. What got through to his brain, around the pain, was that he had cut through the rope. He had freed himself.

Success!

It was bloody awkward, and almost more agony than it was worth, but Cal shifted his hands under his feet, inch by bloody painful inch, until his hands were in front of him. He thanked himself for being lean. With his hands in front of him and his legs stretched out to their full length, Cal felt blood return to areas he hadn't felt in days. That was a whole new intense kind of pain, pins and needles multiplied a thousand times over; more agony on top of more agony. He flexed his arms and legs, trying to help shift the old bad blood away and let in the new oxygenated blood. He needed his muscles getting the best, otherwise he was not going to be able to move when it really became imperative.

Cal rolled on to his back and sat up, his knees bent in front of him. He felt for the knots around his ankles. Hard to tell in the dark, but he suspected it was a reef knot; easily tied, held strongly, sat flat. The stronger version of a Granny Knot, used by one and all to tie their shoes. Over, under, under, over. Cal filed that information away. Then he worked tired, numb fingers against the bindings, trying to ease them away. All that pulling had probably only served to tighten the restraints. Cal felt like he had spent hours working on them, especially with just one hand cooperating with him. And he was actually feeling like he might give up when something gave slightly. He worked a finger and tried again. The rope became looser. Cal tugged and pulled and ignored how the rough rope rubbed at his wrists even more. The bindings came loose and Cal threw the rope away from him.

He felt another surge of elation. He got quickly to his knees, at least, as quickly as he could, and this time picked the exact spot he wanted to cut through with the metal catch on the window. He had a much better angle this time too and even though his upper arms burned and his left shoulder dragged it wasn't long before he had cut through the ropes on his wrists. He fought the ropes away and heaved them at the mattress. The mass of knots bounced off and struck the wall. Cal froze. He quickly, at least, as quickly as he could, crossed to the door on uncooperative legs and pulled it close. He stood in the gap and looked out, his legs shaking. He could see the stair case from that angle. It led directly up to the door. He didn't hear footsteps, just the TV. He had gotten away with that one. He told himself to be more careful.

Cal slipped out of the room, his legs feeling like jelly and he wasn't sure he could feel his feet. He carefully padded down the stairs in his socks, not just so he wouldn't make a sound, but so he wouldn't fall. He reached the bottom and looked around. A hallway, many doors, a gap at the end where the stairs from the first floor came up. Cal shuffled along it, one hand on the wall to steady himself. He crept down those too, noting the television got louder as he curled around a corner. In fact, the TV was up so loud, with every crash of whatever the cunt captor was watching, the walls vibrated slightly. Cal could have broken that window and he doubted the asshole would have heard anything. Cal scuffed along the next hallway towards the front door. Or back door. Whatever. It was a door that led to outside, and that was all he could think about. It was like a mirage in a desert, just slightly out of reach, wavering, taunting him. He wanted to bolt for it, but knew his legs would never carry him. He just hoped it really wasn't a mirage. He didn't want to get there only to find it had been a trick of his imagination.

Cal made his way down the wall to the only open doorway. A kitchen. Right next to the front or back door. Cal peered around it and quickly ducked back. A red armchair sat in the living room, right opposite the door way. He could see the head of the ass-wipe attacker facing the TV, his back to the kitchen. So Cal hadn't been seen, but it didn't stop bile of fear rising into the back of his already burning throat. He had to cross the open doorway to freedom. He didn't want his movement to be detected, there was no way he could out run the guy, whoever he was, in the state Cal was in right now. He slumped down the wall, tired, but by no means defeated yet. He might be physically at a disadvantage, and he usually was in a fight because he was short and lean, but he had smarts on his side. He was observant beyond the point of reason. How often had Gillian gotten frustrated with him because he had already thought of every argument and found a counter to it?

Cal took a deep steadying breath. Time to think again. He had to cross the open door to the front/back door and freedom beyond. There was a truck in the yard, and even if he hobbled along, he could probably still get there fairly quickly. But he needed two things to go his way otherwise he would be royally screwed. He needed keys for the ignition, and he needed the bastard who had beaten him to not follow. So. Cal looked up and around. The keys weren't on a hook by the door. He put his right arm up to feel for the bowl on the table next to where he was slumped. He brought the bowl carefully to his lap. Bloody typical Americans, always keeping their keys in a bowl next to the door. Cal scooped up the only set inside and tucked them into his jeans pockets.

One problem down, now on to number two.

This one was going to be much harder, so many more factors. Cal was in no physical state for a fight or any other kind of exertion; he could barely walk. So he couldn't go in there and deck the guy, or strangle him, or tie him up in a nice bundle for the police to find. And he had already established he couldn't outrun him. Cal doubted very much that he would be up for a nice chat, even though the guy clearly had issues. But Cal certainly needed to create for himself some sort of head start. So what was it?

The TV suddenly went quiet and Cal just about emptied his bladder with the fright of the sudden silence. If there was anything in it that was. He pressed himself into the table he was sitting next to. He realised it was an old sewing machine, one with a manually worked foot pedal. Cal hugged his body into it, turning away from the kitchen, screwed his eyes tightly shut, scared that he was about to be caught. He tried to make himself as small as he possibly could and tried not to think about letting Gillian down.

Cal stayed that way for several long seconds before he realised his kidnapper had gone no further than the kitchen. Cal could hear the clank of a pan, the fridge, bottles, utensils. He relaxed a little, shifted so his back was flat against the wall again, his heart pounding like crazy. The click of and then the sudden rush of gas as the stove was lit. Cal's heart started to calm down. He turned his head. He couldn't see into the room. The sizzle of something in the pan; something that made Cal's mouth start to hyper-salivate. His stomach reared with a crippling pain he hadn't noticed over four days of other physical torment; he hadn't eaten in four days! And he was fucking starving!

Cal bit the inside of his cheek. Stop thinking about it. Focus on something else. His mind trawled through possible subjects. Work, Gillian, food, Gillian, food. All right, that wasn't working. Escape. That would do. No it wouldn't. Cal felt a whimper in his chest. He was so tired, hungry, thirsty and he hurt all over. It was so tempting to leap in there and steal whatever that wanker was making out of his hands. But he couldn't. He had to be more careful. He had to be smart about this.

'_If I had food I might have the physical strength_,' Cal thought bitterly. He bit his cheek harder, told himself to stop wallowing in self pity. He had a heavily pregnant wife to get home to. That was far more important than his stomach.

The sizzling stopped. Cal could hear a knife on a chopping board. Wooden. It made a distinctly muffled sound. Then boots scuffing away again. The TV came back on. Cal just about threw up with relief. He could still smell the food though. Bacon. He peered around the door frame. Asshole was back in his chair. The flicker of the TV lit up the room in patterns that burned Cal's eyes. He tried rubbing them with his right hand and just about threw up from the pain; he gagged a few times, and not very quietly either. He had forgotten about the punch to his eye. He felt the left one gingerly. It was swollen, very sensitive to the touch. But he could see out of it. He wondered if that mattered anymore.

Cal slowly got to his feet, careful to place his limbs purposefully so he didn't accidently knock something over or make a sound; the key bowl he pushed right out of his way. He leaned on the doorframe heavily. He spied the frying pan. It was a massive heavy base. Perfect for knocking the bastard's block off with. Cal steadied himself and took a tentative step towards it. Better to take things slowly. He didn't want to rush and mess it up right at the last minute. He took slow steps in his socks, picking his feet up and down so carefully for a second he wondered if he was even moving across the room at all. Eventually the fry pan was within his grasp. It was very heavy. And the handle was warm. Cal hoped he had the strength to swing it. He moved forward again so he was behind the prick asshole wanker who had kept him captive for four days. Good. Time to get angry. _Think about what he's done to you, not just to you, but to Gillian by taking you away from her._

Cal raised the pan so it was behind his head. His left shoulder was not happy with him at all so he took most of the weight with his right. He almost dropped the cooking implement, could feel it slipping out of his grasp. Why were his hands wet? Were his wrists bleeding again? He hadn't noticed. He didn't bother to look. He had to do this before he lost his nerve.

Focus. Get angry. Cal let the anger boil up inside him, spreading out from his stomach to find his arms and brought the pan down with as much force as he could muster. It struck with such a satisfying crunch Cal almost laughed. It slipped out of his hands to thunk onto the floor. He saw the head in front of him slump over. Cal turned and moved as quickly as he could muster back across the kitchen. He kept on going to the door. It opened despite his slick hands, thankfully it wasn't locked.

It was the back door. He scuffed out into the yard, disorientated for a second. The barn was in a slightly different place, which meant the attic window was actually further around the house. Not that that mattered. Cal moved forward over the cold ground, searching with blinded eyes for the truck. There, on his right, he could see it as his eyes quickly adjusted to the moonlight. He shuffled towards it, panicked that he was going to feel the weight of someone on his back at any second. He refused to look over his shoulder. His nerves were jumpy and they made him want to throw up.

Cal reached the cab. It was unlocked. He hoped he had found the correct keys. For everything that went wrong, the universe seemed to throw two things his way. The keys were correct, they fit the first time Cal tried, despite the fact that his hands were shaking. The engine turned over and Cal simultaneously locked the doors and put the engine into drive. He couldn't feel his foot too well but the accelerator was plenty sensitive enough. The engine roared as Cal put his foot down. He turned on headlights, headed in the direction he thought he remembered the driveway to be in. It was there and he powered through the gate and down the grass lined stretch to the second gate and then he was tipping out onto the road. He swerved wildly, trying to right the balance of the vehicle. Better slow it down, lest he have a god damn accident. That would just be taking the piss.

Cal felt his vision periodically cloud over into blackness even though his eyes were wide open. They were open right? He suspected it was the fatigue and dehydration combined. Either way, he couldn't stop it. He just eased up on the speed a little until he could make out the white painted centre line again, on his right. He checked left and right as he went, looking for the first farmhouse. He went for ten minutes before spotting warm yellow lights on his left. Cal slowed, made an awkward turn into the drive way, clipping the right bumper of the truck on the edge of a fencepost. Facing the right direction Cal gunned it down the driveway and up to the front lawn. He popped open the lock, pulled the door handle, fell out on to the cold grass. Wherever he was, the sun's warmth didn't stay in the ground for very long.

He got to his knees, bruised knee caps and fucked shoulder protesting along the way. He used the open door to pull himself to his feet. He shuffled forward a few steps, fell again. He felt like crying. He had never felt so bloody desperate in his whole life. This topped the time he had been caught in a fire fight in Afghanistan and bullets whizzed around his head. Cal got onto his hands and knees. His stomach started contracting, forcing his throat to constrict. He gagged several times but there was nothing to throw up.

'_Stop it, stop it, stop it.'_

He managed a deep settling breathe. He wasn't safe until someone knew where he was.

'_Get up, get up, get up.'_

Another breath. Good. Now get up. Cal struggled without anything to pull himself up with. But he managed because he was so damn close. He could just about spit on the house, that was how close he was. That is, if he had the strength to spit at full capacity. Cal staggered forward again. Stumbled up the concrete steps, stubbed his toe, shoved the pain to the back of his mind along with the rest of it and fell into the door. He banged on it. He wanted to call out but his throat was dry. He banged again.

"Ok calm down!" A female voice called from within.

Cal worked spit into his mouth, whetting his cheeks and tongue and throat as best he could. He croaked out a noise, cleared his throat. Tried again. He heard a key in a lock and then the door moved forward and Cal fell onto his knees, pain shooting up his thighs to his hips. Tears formed in his eyes as he looked up into the bewildered face of the young woman.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed, bewilderment shifting to horror.

"Can I use your phone?" Cal asked around dry and cracked lips.

She looked as though she wanted to close the door. Luckily Cal was kneeling on her door step. "What happened?"

"Spot of botha," Cal responded. Gillian. He needed to call Gillian.

"I'll call you an ambulance."

"No. Please. Can I please just use your phone? There are people lookin' for me."

He wanted to tell her he wasn't going to hurt her. Wasn't that obvious by the state he was in? He must look a terrible mess.

"And some wart-a?" Cal added as his vision cleared over again. It took a really long time to come back. Enough to scare him into thinking he might be going blind. And never see the face of his baby boy? Fuck he would be so cheated.

The young woman returned with a home phone and a glass. Cal slumped against the wall, barely inside the door; his legs were still hanging over the threshold. They seemed to have abandoned him. He took the phone in his right hand, attempted to take the water with his left. But there was something wrong with that arm because he could barely get his fingers to grip it. He sloshed water over both of them. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Here," the woman held the glass up to his lips. Cal took a sip. She clearly wanted to give him more but he turned his head away and the water spilt down the front of his shirt. It felt cold and refreshing and Cal felt one last burst of energy. "I'm sorry," the woman apologised.

"No. Me. Small sips. It'll make me sick."

The woman put the glass down next to him. "What happened to you?"

Cal had no idea where to start. "What's your name?"

"Tracy."

"Thank you Tracy," Cal said instead. He brought the phone up to his face and dialled out numbers. It rang for a very long time and he almost cried with the thought that it wouldn't be answered.


	22. Chapter 22

Gillian reached for her phone. She had been deep asleep. The number flashing was one she did not recognise. "Hello?" She answered sleepily.

"Gill?"

"Yes?" Suspicious. Only a few people called her by that nick name. Those she was close to; her mother, father, brother, Emily, Cal. "Cal!?"

"It's me," he confirmed.

Gillian sat up so fast in bed she squished the baby into her internal organs. "Where are you Cal?" She turned, wriggled, shifted off the mattress as fast as her mass would allow her, heart pounding wildly.

"I'm..." he hesitated. She could hear him asks someone else in the back ground. "Delaware."

"Delaware?" She felt sick. What the fuck was he doing in Delaware? She reached the bedroom door, pulled it open and stormed through. She could hear voices in the living room. Please let Ben still be there. She had gone for a nap, unable to keep her eyes open. Four days of shit sleep was taking its toll big time. She was a haggard mess. She kept ignoring Doctor Johansson's advice to stay in bed. Ben had called him again and the doctor threatened her with sedatives. She told him to go cram them where the sun didn't shine. She promised she wouldn't leave the house. That was as good as the compromise got.

"I don't know where," he added.

Gillian reached the living room and burst into it, probably the fastest she had moved in the last three months. She saw Ben and Emily turn to look at her in surprise. "Cal are you ok? Are you hurt?"

She saw Emily and Ben's expressions turn to shock. Ben got up and approached her quickly. The devices that had been attached to the home phone to trace calls were gone now. Gillian felt a stab of frustrated tears.

"I'm all right luv. Are you all right?"  
"I'm all right. Whereabouts in Delaware are you?"

Again Gillian heard Cal talking to someone else in the background and then the scuff of the phone and a female voice. "Hello?"

"Hello?" Gillian repeated, scared. What was going on? Ben ripped the phone out of her hand. "Hey!" Gillian protested. Ben side stepped her quickly. He identified himself, asked who he was talking to and if the male individual with Tracy was Cal Lightman.

Emily was in Gillian's face next. "Was that Dad?"

Gillian nodded, started crying. Emily guided her to the couch and sat next to her. Close. Her thin arms around the older woman's shoulders. They both listened to Ben's side of the conversation. He was pulling his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open and finding a number to dial even as he was asking questions about location and if Cal needed immediate medical attention. While in his next breath he was speaking into his phone, telling someone to trace the call, to get a helicopter ready, that Cal had been found and he was personally flying out there to get him.

Gillian zoned in and out between imagining what state Cal was in and picturing seeing him again. She came to as Reynolds hung up the phones. "I'm coming with you," Gillian told him, shifting towards the edge of the couch so she could stand.

"No way are you travelling right now," Ben told her firmly, coming in to her line of sight but staying out of reach. Probably because she had attempted a kick in the shins a few hours ago, before he had ordered her to bed; not her finest moment.

"Then Emily goes," Gillian indicated she wanted to get up. Emily got to her feet and helped pull her vertical again.

"But you stay here," Ben told her pointedly, moving out of her way and towards the door. "Let's go," he said to Emily. He was too fast for Gillian despite her attempts at protest.

Emily gave Gillian's arm a squeeze and an apologetic expression.

"Here," Gillian reached for her phone on the bookshelf where Ben had left it. She was sure he did stuff like that just to slow her down so she couldn't follow him around. "Call me as soon as you see him."

Emily nodded and raced out the door after the FBI agent.

**PJ**

After Cal had handed the phone over to Tracy and confirmed his name when Ben clearly asked for it (he could tell it was Ben because he could hear the authority in his voice even from two feet away and through a phone), he slipped into delirium. He was aware of the murmur of a female voice. At some point she tried cajoling him to move further into the house. But he was a dead weight to her and in no mood for even being able to control his thoughts, let alone his limbs. She brought the water to his lips occasionally and that was one thing that struck through his suddenly muddled mind. He had to rehydrate.

Cal thought he must have fallen asleep or maybe was unconscious for a while because he became fully aware again when flashlights were shone in his face. FBI agents and EMT's arrived. They air lifted him to a hospital. Then it became a blur of bright lights, white walls and scrubbed figures. He remembered two things distinctly: that he hadn't thanked Tracy and that he was in Delaware.

More blurs, flashes of images, and then Emily was peering down at him, her face pale, her brown eyes wide. Cal thought she was just about the loveliest thing he had seen ever. His baby girl. He remembered holding her for the first time. Those little pink fingers. The curl of her lip in the first simple smile she had ever given him. He was so glad she was there right now. He relaxed fully and allowed himself to drift off.

**PJ**

Gillian cursed her dumb luck giving Emily _her_ phone. She should have given her Cal's phone. Gillian's phone had the number in the memory from wherever Cal had called from. She could have called him back and spoken to him. She tried her number from Cal's phone but it was off, went straight to voicemail. They might already be in the air. She wished she was with them. She wanted to know that Cal was ok. He had lied to her on the phone. He said he was all right. He wasn't all right. He had spent days... Gillian had no idea. Hurt? Alone? With someone? Was he broken? Bleeding? Dying? He could be dying for all she knew.

She wished someone would call her and tell her what was happening. Hours went by and she paced, wore herself out, found the couch so uncomfortable and had to go and sit in the kitchen. It was hot and her agitation made her warmer. And her back was aching terribly. Cal would have rubbed it better for her. He always knew when it was bothering her without her having to ask him. And her shoulders, so tense. She felt a pang in her stomach. She missed him so much. She started crying again even though she knew it was doing her no good. Losing all that salt, she was going to dehydrate herself. Doctor Johansson had warned her about that too. He had given her something to drink. Electrolytes. She went to the fridge, found the bottle glaring at her accusingly on the shelf right at eye level.

Gillian just about dropped it when Cal's phone rang. Her number flashed up on the screen. With shaking fingers she answered it.

"I've seen him. He's going to be ok," Emily's voice was barely suppressed optimism and emotion.

'_Oh thank god!'_


	23. Chapter 23

Cal shifted slightly and he was suddenly aware. Not of his surroundings, but every bloody ache and stab of pain in his body. It was an assault from all over and he was unable to pinpoint any particular direction from where it radiated. He could feel his face automatically contort into a grimace and he fought to keep his breathing even. He needed to stay still and relaxed, where the pain didn't seem so bad.

"Cal?"

His eyes flew open. The shock of the light made his eyes water but he could still see her face. Gillian. Looking over at him, a mix of concern and relief and then tears. She was sitting on his right and slipped her hand into his.

"Gill," Cal croaked in return. His fingers tightened around hers in a death grip. "Boy are you a sight for sore eyes." Literally.

"Don't joke," she told him off around a slight laugh and a sniffle. She wiped her cheeks with her free hand. "You're ok."

"Are you tellin' me or askin' me?"

"Telling you. You're ok. Nothing's broken. No permanent damage."

Cal supposed that was a good thing, but he wasn't really worried about himself at that moment; he felt strangely disconnected from his body. "What about you?" He focused on her face again. She looked beyond tired; her skin pale, the freckles washed out, huge black marks under her eyes. Her nose was red.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Cal told her, seeing the obvious lie and her almost non-existent attempt to cover it up.

"No I'm not fine," Gillian admitted on a half sob. "I've been worried sick."

"Me too," Cal murmured, finally letting his grip loosen on her hand a little. "About you. And the baby."

"He's fine." Gillian rubbed her stomach.

"I was so afraid I had missed it," Cal wanted to reach for her, for the baby, but they were both too far away.

"Missed what?" She asked lightly.

"The birth," Cal's throat felt parched. Words were sticking to his tongue the more he talked.

"You haven't missed it," Gillian gave him a frown.

"Where are we?"

"The hospital."

"In which state?" Cal clarified.

"D.C."

"That's not a state," Cal quipped again.

"Stop it," Gillian told him lightly. He was worrying her a little with all the questions.

"How did I get here?"

"You were just over the border in Delaware. The local field office sent a helicopter to find you. They medivacked you to the nearest hospital. Emily caught up with you there."

"I rememba Em, yeah."

"After they determined you were stable and didn't need any emergency care they moved you to here."

"Where you caught up with me?"

"Yes," Gillian nodded.

"How long have you been here?"

"A few hours."

Cal processed. "Is it daylight yet?"

"Nearly."

So the whole frigging ordeal had been close to five days.

"Here," Gillian brought a cup close to his face, guided the straw to his mouth. Cal took a short suck, let the water swirl around his mouth and tongue before swallowing. "Small sips," she told him taking the straw away again.

"I know," Cal responded. He watched her place the cup back on a tray, saw the pronounced lines around her eyes, the pull of worry between her eyebrows. His eyes dropped down to her belly. If it was possible at this stage, she seemed even bigger than before. "You should go home."

"What?" She gave him a flash of anger and confusion.

"You're tired."

"_You're_ tired," she countered.

"You need to sleep."

"I don't. I've been napping on and off."

"You're a terrible lie-a," Cal said forcefully. "Go home."

"No! I'm not leaving you."

"Gill," Cal suddenly softened his tone. "You need to rest."

"I'm resting now," she tried.

"No you're not. You're worryin' about me but you should be worryin' about the baby and the birth." He saw a sudden flicker of something on her face as she glanced away. "What? What was that?" One of his trademark lines sounded suddenly so feeble. "What's goin' on?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me. Please, Gill, tell me if somethin's wrong," he was begging, and he didn't care.

"Nothing's wrong," she looked at him openly.

"Tell me," he growled.

"The baby turned."

Cal felt his heart palpitate. "It's close."

"It could be weeks away."

Cal shook his head and wished he hadn't. His vision actually swam and the pain of moving his body threw waves of nausea over him. He blanched.

"Cal," Gillian was all concern again. "Don't worry about it ok? I need you to get better."

"I need you to go home."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" She asked incredulously.

"Yes!" Cal responded firmly. "I want you to go home and go to sleep, before you fall down. I can see you're exhausted."

Gillian looked hurt.

"I'll come with you."

Now she looked surprised. "What?"

Cal tried to move his left arm and found it strapped to his chest. He removed his right hand from her grip and threw back the covers. He was in a hospital gown.

"No way Cal. You stay here," Gillian got to her feet.

"Nope. If you won't leave unless I go with you then I go with you."

"You need to stay here and let the doctor's take care of you," her voice was tight and fretful. Cal sat up with much effort; it was hard with one arm for balance and the protest of every muscle in his body. His heart pounded. "I don't need docta's. I need my wife. And I need her to be well rested because she's havin' a baby. And if she won't go home and rest because she refuses to leave my side, then I will bloody well go home with her," Cal told her through gritted teeth. "Now, if you end up in here alongside me because you're too bloody stubborn I'm gonna be really mad." He paused, fixed her with a glare. "Help me."

She watched him for a moment. Then sighed and assisted in swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. For the first time Cal caught a glance at the bruise on his shin. It was the size of the toe of a boot and a deep purple. "Take the needle out," Cal directed offering her the crook of his right arm.

"Seriously Cal. You need to stay in the hospital," Gillian hesitated.

"Will you go home?" He saw her 'no' before she could even try to lie about it. "Then I go home too."

"You're severely dehydrated. It's stupid to leave now."

But Cal had already made up his mind. "Eithe-a you take it out for me. Or I use my teeth."

Gillian look horrified for a second. She placed both hands on his arm. She inched her fingers closer to the tape. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Trust me, I can't feel it right now."

Her fingers picked at the tape and pulled it back, yanking hairs out of his arm. Cal barely flinched. He wasn't kidding, next to the other aches and pains he could hardly feel her fingers on his skin. "You know I'm not this kind of doctor."

"Stop procrastinatin'," Cal told her.

Gillian took hold of the needle and pulled it out. It didn't hurt. Until air got to the resulting hole in his arm and then it stung. Quite a bit actually. Gillian put her hand over it to stop the bleeding. She stuck the needle on the table beside the bed. One-handed she went through the draws to find a cotton bud and some medical tape. She fixed up the wound and looked up to find Cal watching her intently.

"Come here," he whispered. She stepped between his legs, the baby pressing into his groin, and kissed him. It was a simple pressing of her lips against his but he felt her shudder and then suck in air around his mouth and the warm wet of her tears on his cheeks. He brought his right arm around her back and held her in place, pressing his forehead against hers, noses brushing, breathing each other in. Cal placed lighter kisses against her cheeks, her lips, where he could reach without moving. Cal suspected the only reason he wasn't also crying was because he couldn't spare the liquid, but his chest was certainly tight and this throat full and he couldn't stop kissing his wife. He really had no idea how dry his lips were until faced with hers.

After several long minutes, after Gillian got it together again, they were still. She frowned, Cal could feel her forehead shift under his, and she placed her fingers delicately along his mouth. "Scratchy," she complained lightly. She stepped back and let him have more water, wiping her red cheeks with her free hand.

"Now," Cal re-focused his partner in crime, having to clear his own throat. "Am I wearin' any undawear?"

Gillian looked amused. "I don't know."

"Can you check?"

She almost laughed as she reached around to the opening in the back and pulled it aside to see his hip. She almost forgot to check for underwear at all when she saw the literally black and blue bruises blooming around his ribcage. She pulled back horrified, one hand covering her mouth. Cal couldn't see what she was looking at, but he could guess. He had seen those kinds of bruises on her after her car accident. He knew what they looked like.

"Try not to think about it," he told her. "Nothin' broken right?" Gillian met his eyes, hers brimming with tears. Nothing broken, but by the feel of it he was going to bleeding internally for a while and pissing blood later. "Undawear?" Gillian nodded. "All right then. I just need a shirt or somethin'?"

Gillian seemed to gather herself. "Have this," she started removing her sweatshirt.

"I don't think I can fit your sweata."

"It's yours."

"Why are you wearin' my sweata?" And why had he failed to notice it was his?

"It reminds me of you. And not much of mine fits me anymore." She pulled it over her head and put it over his and helped him shift his head and right arm through the holes. She pulled it down over his left shoulder.

"What's with my shoulda?"

"Dislocated."

Cal nodded. He held out his right hand to her and tried not to lean his weight on her too much as he slid off the bed to his feet. His knees buckled as he hit the ground and he staggered trying to regain his balance. That strained his aching ribs and shoulder and the result was a doubled over Cal gripping Gillian's hand fiercely.

"Would you listen to me at all if I objected at this point?" Gillian asked shakily.

"Nope," Cal grunted. "I wanna go home." That's what he wanted more than anything else. "I wanna go home and curl up in bed with you and our baby and just pretend for a minute that there's nothin' wrong."

Gillian gave a slight nod. "I don't know where your clothes are. They're probably in Delaware."

"I don't want them back anyway," Cal told her. They crossed to the door and Gillian opened it for him. "What? No FBI guard?" Cal asked as they headed slowly down a corridor.

"I guess they figured you weren't going anywhere," Gillian told him.

"Guess they were wrong," Cal gave her a smaller image of his 'highly amused' grin; it was incredibly weak and Gillian rebuffed it with an eyeroll. She asked him if he should discharge himself but Cal waved her off; he just wanted to leave. If they stopped for paper work then someone would call someone who try to stop him; his best chance was just to go. Gillian huffed angrily at him, but again, there wasn't much _she_ could do to stop him either. They reached the lifts and Cal leaned against the wall while they waited. He saw a twitch on Gillian's face and she surreptitiously rubbed her stomach. "Was that a contraction?" He asked with surprise.

"No."

"You're a terrible lie-a," Cal accused with enthusiasm.

"I'm tired," Gillian grouched.

The doors pinged open, they both hobbled in.

"How long have you been havin' contractions?" Cal asked as the doors closed again.

"Would you even believe me if I said that was the second one today?" Gillian gave him a defiant expression. Cal was tired, but he was pretty sure that was the truth.

"Deny it all you want, the baby's gonna come soona or late-a."

"Hopefully later," Gillian looked up and watched the lights count down the floors. "When you're better and I can break your fingers."

Cal chuckled. His ribs spasmed so badly he doubled over again and he fought down the urge to gag. It took him a long moment to gain his breath back, and his ability to stand. Gillian's hands were warm on his shoulders and they weren't entirely soothing; she fear gripped him. "See what happens when you try to escape a hospital and then laugh about it?" She huffed, but that didn't hide the tension in her tone.

Cal straightened up as the car stopped moving. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered. They stepped out into the ER. It was the crack of dawn, Cal spied a clock, but the place was crowded. Probably all the dumb kids waking up from their drunken nightly escapades to find themselves in not a very good state. Cal realised he had lost track of the actual day. It must be Wednesday morning? He walked purposefully forward, took his wife's hand, and kept his head up. The less attention they drew to themselves the better. Except he had on no pants or shoes and Gillian was heavily pregnant, wearing one of those incredibly tight fitting tank tops with no sleeves so that everyone could see everything. And neither of them were exactly moving easily.

"Where do you think you're going?" A nurse stood in front of them.

"Just havin' a quick smoke," Cal lied. The nurse didn't look impressed. "Won't be a minute luv, then we'll be right back in."

"All right," the nurse caved and stepped aside.

They kept going, painful step after painful step. The drop into the passenger seat was agony. Cal couldn't fasten his own seatbelt and he made Gillian stop at a group of shops halfway home. She pulled up outside the liquor store. "You're not going to make me go in there are you?" She looked incredulous.

"No, there," Cal pointed at the pharmacy. "I'm not gonna make it through the day without somethin'." Gillian looked as though she was going to object. Cal stared at her and she stared back, mouth slightly ajar, half a word formed; she closed her mouth. Then she unfastened her seatbelt and awkwardly levered herself out of the car. Cal watched her go amused. They were quite the pair at the moment. And that was wrong. He was supposed to be taking care of her, not the other way around. Cal looked out of the window while he waited. The sky was being sun kissed awake. Beautiful colours, light greens and yellows, reds, oranges, a hint of purple. Probably the same colour as Cal's body.

Gillian came back with a large plastic bag full. She put it on the backseat and got in the front.

"I send you in for pain meds and you come back with half the pharmacy."

"Stop your complaining," Gillian told him sharply. "Or go yourself next time."

Cal covered a smirk. He liked it when she fought back. They went home. Cal found out the bag contained, not just the requested pain medication, but bottles of electrolytes, energy bars, antiseptic salves, bandages and medical tape. Gillian had had to move Cal's car. Or rather, she got Emily to move it from the driveway, because he had blocked her in. Now it was in its usual place and Cal stared at it as if it were mocking him. Seeing it in the garage almost made him doubt what had happened.

Inside, the house was a mess and Gillian actually seemed embarrassed. Cal pretended he hadn't noticed. Gillian's phone started ringing. She dug it out of her bag and frowned at the screen. "It's Ben."

"Oh yeah?" Cal raised his eyebrows.

"Hello?" Gillian answered. Even from across the room he could hear Ben's angry voice. "Yes he's here," Gillian eyed Cal. He started backing out of the room. He was not going to talk to Ben or anyone else today; not until he'd had a shower, some more to drink and had cuddled up on his bed with his wife and their baby and pretended, even if it was just for a minute, that there was nothing wrong.

Cal passed through the bedroom and noted the half pulled curtains, the messed up bed sheets, the clothes on the floor and the musty smell of sleepy air. He still didn't care. He headed into the bathroom and just about started at the sight of himself in the mirror. He was glad he hadn't gone into the pharmacy. Both eyes were black. His left eye was blacker, swollen, a little break in the skin in the corner. He remembered that punch. His nose was purple at the bridge. Nothing broken huh? Not even his nose? He touched it gingerly. Very sensitive. There was dried blood in his beard and down the side of his face and in his hair and when he pulled back the neck of the sweatshirt he could see it crusted into the creases of his neck.

He pulled the sweatshirt off by the neck and dumped it on the floor by his feet. The hospital gown was hanging off him and he pulled the tie at the back of his neck with his good hand. Now that he had moved his arm he could see the streaks of blood running up to his elbow. The gown fell away and left him standing in the white hospital issue boxer shorts. His left shoulder was taped up so his left hand was resting on the opposite collar bone. He could see the bruises that had horrified Gillian. They were deep purples and yellow fading into greens; already starting to heal and they were spread over his ribs, wrapping around his back in big kaleidoscopic patterns. He noticed bandages around his wrists and one taped to the back of his head and a butterfly stitch holding his ear lobe in its rightful place. Cal had been in some terrible situations in his life, but this was by the far the most beat up he had ever looked. Even he found it hard to look at himself right now.

Gillian appeared in the doorway. She eyed him up carefully.

"What did Ben want?"

"Wondered where the hell you were."

"And did you inform him?"

"I did."

"And what did he say?" Cal prompted.

"He said you were an idiot and that you needed to be in a hospital."

Cal didn't respond. He ran his hand along his chin. There should be a bruise there somewhere too.

"He said he was going to come by and talk to you tomorrow. Take a statement."

There. He pulled his hand away. "Turn the showa on for me?

Gillian obliged. And she helped him out of his underwear and peeled back the bandage on his head and on his wrists. The amount of blood on the white made Cal concerned. He tried not to look at his wrists directly. Except he caught Gillian's expression of sheer disgust and he couldn't help it. The groove ran in a perfect circle right around his wrist and it was deep, wide, raw, still oozing blood. And now that there was air on it, it hurt like something else. The water only made it worse and Cal was disturbed beyond the pain by the amount of red that rain down the drain.

The hot water felt good. Cal tilted his head back and let it run over his closed eyes and through his dirty hair. But it was too hot to stand for too long. Gillian liked hot showers. Cal didn't want to pass out in one. He turned the water temperature down with his stinging right hand. Where to start? And he had to be quick before he collapsed out of exhaustion. The shower door popped open. Gillian stood in the doorway watching him. Her nose was red like she had been crying. "Mind if I join you?"

"Of course not."

She pulled her tank top off over her head, revealing the expanse of her baby belly. Despite the extra girth she was much more agile than he was at the moment. She undressed in under a minute and was next to him in no time at all. Cal's hand found her belly immediately. Her skin was warm to the touch. "Hi little guy," Cal greeted.

"Hhm," Gillian sounded amused. Cal looked up with questioning eyes. "He started kicking as soon as you touched me." Cal shifted his hand lower to find the baby's feet. Gillian moved his arm higher towards her ribs. "The baby turned remember?"

"Right," Cal agreed, disturbed that he was forgetting things so easily. His mind was usually so good to him. He wanted to bend over and kiss his wife's belly but even removing his underwear had been too much.

Gillian ran slender fingers along his hairline, gently, feathery soft touch over his wounds. "What's the damage?" She asked him.

"I thought you might now."

"Why would I know? It's your body."

"Thought you might have talked to the docta."

"He told me your shoulder was dislocated but that nothing was broken." Her fingers trailed over his nose.

"Guess I should really talk to the doc properly then."

"Probably." Her fingers trailed down his chest and stopped just above his navel. "I hate that someone did this to you." Cal didn't respond. "Who was it Cal? Who did this?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" She seemed surprised.

"I have no idea. How about you? What did you find out?"

"Nothing."

"Nothin'?"

"There was nothing to go on. Absolutely nothing. The neighbours didn't see or hear anything. There were no flags in on-going cases. Eli and Ria went over case files, starting from the most recent... but there was nothing. They were going to stop looking."

"No ransom call then?"

"No."

Cal was perturbed. What had it all been about then? Chance? Revenge?

"Do you think it was random?" Gillian asked.

"No, somehow, no I don't."

"What did he say to you? I assume it was a man?"

"Yeah it was a man. He neva said a word to me."

"At all?" Her hands went back to his face, caressing.

"Not one word, the whole time," Cal clarified. "I know this is gonna sound like I'm changin' the subject, but can we showa while we're in here and talk when we're lyin' down? I'm just about dead on my feet as it is."

"Of course," her face was a picture of concern.

"And so are you."

Gillian gave him an annoyed frown. "I wish you would worry about yourself more at the moment."

"Aside from bein' some amazin' colours right now, I am actually fine," Cal told her pointedly, hoping she would believe him.

"Want me to pass you the soap?"

Cal gave a slight smile. "Shampoo first I think." He reached for it, trying not to over stretch his grasp. He popped the lid with his thumb and squirted what he guessed was a small amount onto his head. Then snapped the lid shut and put the bottle back on the shelf. Except he didn't get a chance to rub the shampoo into a lather. Gillian reached up before him. She was gentle but still, the pressure of her fingers on a few tender spots made Cal wince. She remembered where they were as she rinsed the soap out and started on a second round. She washed around them as best she could.

"I'm surprised you're not concussed, the amount of dried blood in your hair," Gillian mused.

"Me too actually," Cal agreed. He had hit his head a lot during the ordeal and taken a few good strikes with a boot. In fact, he was lucky he hadn't come off worse than he was. He could have been killed or tortured or a million other far worse scenarios.

Gillian rinsed the shampoo from his hair again, running her fingers along his scalp. It felt good and Cal was starting to feel clean again. Gillian spread conditioner through his short locks and then rinsed her hands under the stream of water.

"Soap," Cal directed. Gillian held it out to him. "You do it," Cal told her, rather liking the attention and being glad he didn't have to find yet another reserve of energy just to make himself feel human again; standing was tough enough. "But be gentle."

Gillian lathered up his chest and then handed him the bar of soap. "For god's sake don't drop it." She told him. "Neither of us is in a very good position to be able to pick it up right now."

Cal chuckled and winced, his ribs pounding in protest. "No jokes. I can't take it."

"So you can make funnies but I'm not allowed?" Gillian asked as she ran her fingers around his neck, working away the grim and dried blood. "How is it that you have blood everywhere?"

"Didn't exactly get the chance to clean up at the end of every night."

Gillian's hand stilled for a split second and then continued. Cal could see she wanted to grill him but for whatever reason she didn't. He was glad for that. He didn't want to talk about it in detail just yet. He knew his statement to the investigators tomorrow would be full of minute facts and points of interest. And he knew Gillian would be there listening in. She could hear about it then. And she could ask him questions later.

Gillian took more soap, washed his arms and shoulders, his right arm pit, despite him trying to squirm away, down over his stomach to his hips. Cal thought she might dare to go lower. That would have been thrilling. But no. She made him turn around, and repeated the process on his back. She was extra soft over his bruises, moving very slowly and gently. While she did that Cal washed is face thoroughly, including his ears, and picked the dried blood out of the opening on his nose. Gillian squeezed his ass.

"Oi!" Cal complained. "Molestation of the invalid."

"Want me to wash your lower half?"

"Was that a rude suggestion?"

"No," she said indignantly.

Cal thought about telling her his lower half wasn't going to be as dirty because he had long trousers on, his jeans and socks, but then he remembered why he wouldn't be clean. "I'll do it," he told her, hoping she wouldn't hear something in his voice that would give away his embarrassment and shame.

"I'll rinse your hair then and leave you to it."

So she did. Cal could see her shadowy figure drying off through the fogged up shower walls. He waited until she had left the room and then studied his bottom half as best he could without bending over and torturing himself. There was a rash, like he suspected there would be, from where his own acidic piss had burned his leg as it dried. He soaped up the washcloth and used that. With one arm it was awkward, with one arm and bruised to hell ribs, it bordered on impossible. He did the best he could. He made sure all the important parts south were clean anyway. Then he turned off the water and took small steps towards the door. Gillian was back almost immediately, dressed in jeans and another tank top. This time, no bra. Cal stared. Gillian didn't seem to notice. She retrieved his towel for him.

She helped him dry off and dress in clean boxer-briefs (she didn't say anything about the rash) and a t-shirt. "I remember you taking care of me like this once."

"Me too."

"It's incredibly trusting and intimate. Must have been hell for you at the time."

"Can't have been much fun for you eitha." He meant the pain she was in. Would have been just like the agony he was in right now.

"I was just glad it was you who was looking after me."

Cal stilled her hands as she gently rubbed his wet hair. He looked into her blue eyes. "Me too." Then he pulled her closer to kiss her. The baby bumped into his stomach. "Can't help but feel there's somethin' always gettin' between us," he quipped dryly.

Gillian gave a slight smile and angled her stomach away. She pressed her lips against his but pulled back far too quickly for Cal's liking. "You really need to start taking on fluids," she told him.

Cal felt his lips, they were papery and cracked. "No arguments here. And maybe somethin' to eat. It's been days."

"Days?" That surprised disturbed look again.

"Yeah days," Cal admitted. How the hell was he even still standing right now?

"What do you want?"

"I really feel like jelly."

Gillian laughed. "Seriously?"

"That's all I'd be gettin' in hospital."

"Ok. I'll get you a jell-o cup and something to drink." She waddled from the bedroom. Cal took his wet towel back to the bathroom and hung it up. In the bedroom he commandeered some of Gillian's extra pillows and piled them up against the back of the headboard so he could prop himself up in a sitting position. He found the pain meds and a glass of water on his side of the bed. He took them to Gillian's. She was going to get up for the bathroom more often than he was. It was politer for her to be closer to it than him.

Cal sat on the mattress and read the box. He hated how blurry his vision seemed. It was probably because he was tired. He was able to discern the pills should be taken with food, as most pain medication should be but he popped two out of the packet and swallowed them with a minimal amount of water. He still needed to absorb any liquids straight into his system or he would get into serious trouble. Otherwise he really would be stuck in a hospital. And he was about to eat now, so taking the pills was fine.

Gillian came into the bedroom with a tray. There were two individual lime green jelly cups and two bottles of an orange liquid. And then there was a whole swagger of medical supplies. They ate first. Gillian explained the orange liquid was pure electrolytes. Cal asked why she was drinking it too. She looked guilty for a second. "Don't be mad at me."

"What did you do?" Cal asked feeling alarmed. He was sure it would have registered on his face if he wasn't so damn tired. The sun was up in full force now, streaming in through the bedroom window. Despite all the brightness he felt like he would crash as soon as he stopped moving. Which was why he hadn't lied back yet.

"When you were gone," Gillian stared in a low tone. "I was upset. And a little frantic. And Doctor Johansson tried to put me on bed rest."

"Bed rest?"

"My blood pressure was going up. And I couldn't stop crying." She indicated the bright orange electrolytes. They didn't taste half bad. Just like drinking cordial.

"And all those tears equals a loss of saline," Cal finished.

"Exactly."

"How frantic were you luv?"

"Persistent might be a better word."

Cal gave her a slight smile as he finished his jelly. "That's my girl."

Gillian was surprised for a micro-second. Then she looked pleased.

"Of course if the baby had been hurt in any way I _would_ be mad at you."

"He's fine. I swear Cal."

"I know," Cal told her sincerely. He sipped more of his drink. He was going to finish it and then go to sleep for a long time. "Actually," he changed his mind. "I don't think I could be mad at you right now. I'm just too damn glad to see you."

Gillian looked relieved. "Me too."

Cal put his drink back on the tray. His hand still wasn't steady and that worried him. But at least the wound around his wrist had stopped oozing crap at him. He studied it closer in the light of the sun.

"We should cover all your sores up again," Gillian told him quietly.

"All right docta," Cal held out his wrist to her.

Gillian set up a work station. She used cotton buds to spread a thick layer of antiseptic cream over the wound. It was cold and after a while it stung, but Cal kept still while she wrapped a gauze pad around the diameter and then bound the whole thing in a bandage. She did the same for his left wrist though it was more awkward being so close to his chest. Cal sipped his drink again; three quarters to go, and studied her face as she concentrated. She seemed less tense than at the hospital.

Gillian put the cream on the hole in his arm from the needle and put a simple plaster over it. Then she felt for the wound in the back of Cal's head, using his directions to locate it and then checking through the strands of his hair for the edges. Cal could feel it ache much more distinctly now the fog in his brain was clearing as his body absorbed the liquid minerals. Gillian put salve on it and a big white bandage that she stuck down with medical tape.

"I'm not sure it'll hold but hopefully it will long enough for the cream to soak in." Then she cleaned and re-taped the tear on Cal's ear lobe. She put a dot of cream on the bridge of his nose and next to his eye where the skin was broken. "Anywhere else?"

"I reckon you would have made a great docta." He paused. "A propa docta that is."

Gillian gave him a wan smile. "That's what my father wanted for me."

"I'm glad you didn't. We might not have met."

Gillian gave him a shocked expression. "That was incredibly sweet."

"And entirely heartfelt."

Gillian shifted close to him again. She kissed him, properly this time, letting her tongue reacquaint with his. Cal gave a little moan of delight. He was picturing her in a nurse's uniform. Not quite the same thing but definitely the right idea. "God I missed you so terribly," he murmured against her mouth.

"Me too Cal," she whispered back, her voice sounding choked. When she pulled away her nose had turned red with the effort of not crying.

Cal sipped his drink again. He wished his other hand was free. He'd like to feel her skin beneath his touch. He'd like to feel their baby inside her, readying for the world in a few weeks. Then he suddenly remembered, "What happened to Em?"

"She went back to Zoe's." Gillian gulped her drink a lot faster than he could. "She figured you'd be out of it for most of the day. She said she would come by and see you in the afternoon. After we had a chance to... talk."

Cal nodded. "Might have to let her know there's been a slight change in plans."

"Good idea." Gillian reached for his phone; also on the tray. She handed it to him. "I'll come back in a minute.

Cal stuck his drink between his thighs and then wished he hadn't been so callous about it. The bruises there were still just as sensitive as every other one on his body. Gillian packed up her medical supplies and the tray and took them out of the room. Cal dialled, sipped some more. The call picked up quickly.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Dad? Oh my god. I thought it might have been Gillian. Are you ok? What's going on? I called the hospital and they said you'd disappeared!"

"Nope, not disappeared. Come home. Gillian broke me out."

"Oh."

"I asked her to."

"Oh."

"I wanted to be at home."

"I was going to come and see you."

"I would love to see you sweetheart but right now I'm about to fall asleep. Will you come and see me late-a?"

"Yeah, whenever you want."

"I really wanna see you, don't think I'm givin' you a brush off."

"I don't. I was just worried. You looked terrible in Delaware. They barely did anything to clean you up. You had all this blood all over your face."

"I know," Cal tried cutting in.

"You could have died."

"I know," Cal agreed quietly. "Scares me too."

"I didn't know what to do." Emily sounded suddenly strange. Cal suspected she was crying. "I just tried to look after Gillian because I know that's what you would want but she was so upset all the time and I was worried about you. I felt so useless."

"You, my darlin', are not useless," Cal told her gently. "You're perfect and I love you very much. And I was delighted to come to in Delaware to find you there."

"I wasn't even sure you knew it was me."

"I knew."

"I love you Dad. The thought of losing you..."

"Same here." Cal felt the sting of tears in his own eyes. The thought of what he could have lost. His daughter, his wife, his to be born son.

"Mom says she's glad you're ok."

"Thank her for me," Cal responded politely. Gillian appeared in the doorway. Cal cracked a yawn.

"I should let you go," Emily immediately responded.

"Thanks luv, I'm just about asleep." Cal caught the smile on Gillian's face out of the corner of his swollen eye. "Love you."

"Love you too Dad. Just call me later if you want to. We can hang out tomorrow or something."

"I will do that."

"Say hey to Gillian for me."

Cal shifted the phone away from his face and put the call on speaker. "Emily says hi," he told Gillian.

"Hi Emily," she crossed the room and climbed up onto the mattress. She directed her voice to the phone. "I never got the chance to thank you for looking after him from Delaware back here."

"Make sure he goes to bed."

"He's in bed now," Gillian assured her. "And thank you for everything else."

"I'm just glad you're both ok, and he's safe and sound."

"Goodbye," Cal cut in.

"Bye Dad. Bye Gill."

Cal cut the call. Gillian took his phone and put it on the bedside table. She went to the bathroom and Cal finished the last of his orange drink. "I see you have commandeered my side of the bed," Gillian noted taking his glass.

"So you have an emergency exit," Cal gestured to the en suite.

Gillian pulled the curtains closed. The room went noticeably darker. Cal got up slowly. Now that he had stopped moving around so much his muscles were cooling down again and getting stiff. He pulled back the covers and settled himself with many controlled cries of pain on his back. It was immediately uncomfortable. He shifted again, crying out gently when his shoulder protested being pressed on. He turned to his other side and settled on his right.

"Where are you?" he asked Gillian, hating that he was lying with his back to her. Maybe he should have kept his side of the bed after all.

"Here," she responded in a strained voice.

"I can't feel you."

She shifted up behind him, the baby pressing gently into his back. She put an arm over his waist. Cal caught her hand and linked his fingers into hers. "Betta," he encouraged.

"Are you in much pain?"

"Not really."

"Liar."

"I hurt. But the meds are kickin' in. So that helps."

"What hurts the most?"

"Head, ribs, shoulder, kidneys."

"I could get you an ice pack?"

"Don't you dare move," Cal already had his burning eyes closed and he could feel sleep right on the edge of his brain. He was aware he was barely murmuring, his words running together.

He felt Gillian press her face into his back gently. "You smell much better," her muffled voice told him.

Cal didn't respond.

"We're going to talk tomorrow right? I mean, really talk. You're going to tell me what happened?"

"So long as you tell me the reasons why Doctor Johansson put you on bed rest."

Gillian was silent for a moment. "I'll tell you everything if you tell me everything."

"Deal." And then Cal was out of it.


	24. Chapter 24

Cal slept for a stupidly huge amount of time. And then he woke in the evening, when his brain could no longer block out the pain he was in. He had more liquids, something a bit more substantial than jelly, more white pills, used the bathroom, and went straight back to sleep again. He didn't dream. Or else he chose not to remember the images. He didn't want to remember that dusty farmhouse in Delaware. He didn't want to wake up afraid in his own home.

Cal woke early the next morning flat on his back. He had strewn the pillows around him. Gillian had poached one back to hug in her sleep because it helped support the weight of the baby. But the others were at Cal's feet, on the floor, and half hanging off the edge of the bed. He went to save it with his left hand but found it restricted and woke fully with a pounding heart, his fingers tight against the bed sheet. Then he remembered. He was home. Safe.

Gillian was blinking awake next to him. "How'd you sleep?" She asked groggily.

"Good. You?"

"Much better now you're home." She had stayed with him the entire time he was asleep, reading or just lying beside him, most of the time asleep herself.

Cal found himself desperate for the bathroom again. He shifted out of bed, feeling how much easier it was to move even just twelve hours after the last time he had been awake; his body was much less an agony and now more like a constant aching. In the bathroom mirror he could see the swelling was coming down in his eye and nose. The bruises on his ribs were getting lighter already. He felt like he had lost several days. Which he kind of had.

Gillian was sitting up in bed when Cal came back in, picking the sleep from her eye. Cal liked the way her hair was ruffled from sleeping on it and her cheeks were slightly pink. "How are you feelin' today luv?"

"Fine," she gave him a slight smile. "You? You seem to be moving around much easier." She watched him intently as he moved around the room.

"I definitely feel betta." He crossed to the curtains and pulled them back with his one hand. He still hurt, but it was manageable now and he was glad he had slept through the worst of it. Then he popped open the window. Someone had cut their lawns recently; he could smell grass. "How about a nice breakfast of electrolytes and fresh fruit?"

"Sounds good," Gillian responded with an even brighter smile and manoeuvred herself to get out of bed.

They ate outside on the deck, taking advantage of the sun before it got unbearably hot. Cal had another shower, trying to clean his left arm around the tape and bandages as much as possible. Gillian re-dressed his wounds. She told him about the FBI taking evidence photos in Delaware. Or so she had heard from Emily. Cal didn't recall them and he was a little disturbed they had taken them without his knowledge. Gillian countered the bruises had already bloomed and if they didn't take them soon their full impact would be lost. Cal wasn't sure that made him feel any better about it. First, the asshole who took him invaded his body by beating it black and blue, and then the FBI took photographic evidence of the violation, while he was unconscious.

Reynolds rang as they were tidying up the kitchen. He wanted to come over straight away to take Cal's statement. Cal shook his head. Gillian frowned. Cal indicated he wanted the phone. "I'll make a statement," Cal told Reynolds without even identifying himself. "But not here. I'll come in."

Reynolds spluttered his agreement and Cal hung up on him. They got ready to go out.

**PJ**

Cal sat in an interrogation room. He didn't like it. It smacked of connotations of him being in trouble for something. The agent assured him nothing was recording, that there was no one standing behind the glass watching them, that they were only there for privacy. If that was the case, Cal countered, then he wouldn't mind switching places so that Cal could sit in the interrogators seat with his back to the two way mirror. The agent seemed unsure but he agreed. And he also wouldn't mind if Gillian sat in. There was an objection to that. Cal insisted. The agent had to check with someone. Gillian seemed pleased that Cal was so adamant.

"Describe your assailant."

Cal wondered why Reynolds wasn't taking his statement. Maybe he was too close to the case. Seemed silly. He was probably just busy. "He was male. Slightly talla than me. Slightly heavy-a."

"Can you describe his face?"

"Nope. Neva saw his face." And it occurred to Cal that he should have looked. He had the chance to while the guy was out cold in his chair. But Cal had been more focussed about getting the hell out of there.

"You never saw his face?"

"He had a balaclava on when he was at my house. Afta that he kept my eyes covaed."

The agent made a note. His name was Peterson; mid twenties, light brown hair, hazel eyes, non-descript in a grey suit. Cal wondered why he was getting an inexperienced agent. Wondered if it was personal and if he should take offence. He might anyway.

"Any distinctive features?"

"I neva saw him."

"Nothing about the way he walked?"

"Didn't see him," Cal repeated. "He kept my eyes cova-ed the whole time."

"Oh," the agent made a note. "Anything distinctive about his voice? An accent or impediment?"

"He neva said a word to me."

More surprise. Cal could see Gillian shift out of the corner of his eyes.

"Nothing?"

"Not a word, the whole time," Cal affirmed, which he hadn't thought strange until now. The guy had never made demands, never told him what he thought of Cal, never suggested what would happen to him.

"What do you remember about where you were held?"

"Everythin'."

The agent looked surprised. "Tell me about it."

"I was kept in an attic in a farmhouse. The window faced west. The yard was dusty, no lawn. There was a red barn, a rusted down tractor unda an oak tree. The farmhouse was three storeys tall. The room was small, low window, floral sun faded wallpape-a. Wooden floors. Antiques in the house."

"Were you alone?"

"I neva noticed anyone else. It was quiet. Isolated. Couldn't hear the road. Smelt like dust and silage." Cal watched the agent take notes. Most of this information was probably useless, aside from the general features. But it helped Cal go back there and as he knew from personal experience, sometimes even the smallest details could trigger a chain reaction big enough that could lead to an arrest. Gillian sat quietly next to him, watching him; he could feel her eyes but didn't glance over. He wanted her there so he wouldn't have to repeat himself later, but that didn't mean it was easy for him to let her hear this story.

"Ok, let's go over it from the start," Peterson directed.

Cal thought back a moment and started the story. When he described the beating he had taken on the first day Gillian visibly flinched. Cal continued. He tried to remain as detached from it as he could be. He spewed out facts, details, nothing emotional. He didn't talk about the humiliation of needing the bathroom and not being able to get to one. Or the strange compassion his captor had shown by giving him a bucket of water to clean up with. Cal was sure somewhere on record it would have been noted that he had smelt like urine when he was picked up. They didn't need to know that it made him feel like a little boy afraid of the dark again, unable to control himself with the fear that there was something under his brother's bed. They didn't need to know that the only thing that had kept him from losing all hope was the woman sitting next to him.

"Anything else you remember?" Peterson asked once Cal had described the last moments of taking the truck and racing down the road to the nearest farm house where he had found Tracy. He really owed Tracy a phone call of gratitude. He would have thought twice about letting a beat up Englishman into his house. Especially if he was a young woman alone. He purposefully left out the satisfaction he had felt swinging that fry pan and the sickening crunch it had made on the back of his abductor's head.

"He was incredibly quiet. He would move around and I wouldn't hear him and then suddenly he would be there. That's how he snuck up on me in the first place." Cal paused. "And he had needles. He gave me somethin' that knocked me out pretty quickly." Another pause. "He tied a Reef knot." He stopped. He felt exhausted. He had been talking non-stop for hours. His throat was dry.

Gillian reached across and placed a hand on his arm resting on top of the table. The agent had been scribbling furiously and it seemed he was tired too. They all were. Cal, for spilling is guts, reliving it while trying not to, the agent for trying to keep up, and Gillian with the effort of not being horrified by what she had heard, of what that asshole had put her husband through. Cal turned his arm over so his hand was facing up and brought it back so Gillian's hand would fit inside his.

"Can we go now?" Cal asked quietly. Peterson showed him to the door. Reynolds was waiting outside it. He clasped Cal's hand, told him it was good to see him, said he looked much better. "Thanks for lookin' afta Gill for me." He saw guilt. "And not givin' up." A little shame. Gillian squeezed his hand, a warning to not go too far. "Talk to you late-a," Cal added before allowing his wife to pull him away.

"Don't pick a fight," Gillian told him as they rounded a corner.

"I expected more from him," Cal told her. The comment she had made yesterday about them considering giving up. It had been confirmed on Reynolds's face. They were going to stop looking for him. If Cal hadn't broken free himself... he could still be there right now. Or six feet under. The thought was nauseating.

"He did everything that he could."

"Somehow I don't think that's true."

"Cal, it wasn't a global conspiracy to get rid of you. You know the protocol as well as Ben and I do. After four days, with no evidence, no communication. What else was he going to do? I didn't like it, but it was something we had to consider."

Cal hated that she was right. So he didn't respond. In the car Gillian turned to him and waited until he looked over at her. "Are you going to talk to somebody?" She asked.

"I just talked to them lot," Cal answered, knowing exactly what she really meant but not wanting to go there.

"I meant, about how you're feeling. I noticed you left that out of your account."

Of course she would notice that. Cal suppressed a sigh. "I'm fine. Really. I am. I talked about it just now, so everythin's out there and you know everythin about it. Right now, I wanna go see the doc about gettin' my arm back and I gotta see my daughta. And then I gotta make a phone call."

Gillian watched him a moment longer. "Ok," she agreed softly and turned the engine over. But Cal suspected that wasn't the end of it.


	25. Chapter 25

"Since when do you knock on this door?" Cal asked stepping back so Emily could come in.

"Since I wasn't sure about invading your space."

Cal hugged her tightly with his good arm. His shoulder was still bandaged up. It would stay that way for at least another day. Then he would have a brace and physical-therapy. But the doctor was optimistic there was no permanent damage; it was more of a precaution. "You are neva invadin' our space," he told her. "It's good to see you."

"You too. You look heaps better already."

"I had a really good night's sleep," Cal told her, pushing the front door shut. They moved into the living room, Cal's movements much more fluid, but still a little cautious. "And a showa."

"I'm glad, you smelled pretty terrible."

"I'm back for two minutes and you're already startin' in on your old man?"

Emily looked awkward.

"I talked to the docta today," Cal changed the subject, moving swiftly on, taking a seat in the chair under the window. Emily perched on the arm of the couch. "Said I'm gonna be as good as new." And he had actually discharged himself from the hospital properly this time; went through the paper work and everything instead of just bailing.

"That's really good."

Cal nodded. She didn't seem very talkative. And his number one conversation starter had made herself scarce in the kitchen. "Gill told me that you were here every day for her. Made her somethin' to eat and looked afta her. So thank you."

Emily nodded.

"She said you were pretty strong. Stood up to Ben a few times."

Emily gave a slight smile.

"You all right luv?" Cal tried a different tact.

"It's just so strange that you're sitting here talking to me like nothing's happened."

Cal wasn't sure what to say to that.

"I mean, apart from your face."

Still unsure.

"Does it hurt?"

"My face? My nose is sore."

"I know you've always done crazy things and got yourself beat up or nearly killed loads of times but this is just somehow different."

"Because it wasn't me that put myself in that situation," Cal supplied, bemused with his own astuteness; he might earn that psychology degree after all. Gillian would be impressed. "It was completely out of everyone's control."

Emily nodded glumly. "I've never seen Gillian that agitated. She's always so calm and collected, you know?"

"I do know," Cal was thankful for the trigger in his memory. Gillian owed him a conversation. He made that his number two priority.

"Even Ben was shaken. And Ria and Eli. It just made me realise, you like to pretend you're quite the loner, and yet there are all these people around you who are totally relying on you being in their lives."

Scratch that, Emily won points on astuteness today.

"And I can't help wonder what would have happened if you hadn't come back. What if you hadn't got away?"

"It doesn't bear thinkin' about," Cal answered honestly. Mostly because he had no idea what would have happened. Not to himself, not to Emily, his business, his wife, his baby.

Emily got to her feet again. "I just wanted to come by and see that you really were ok."

"You don't have to leave luv. You're always welcome here."

"Yeah but you know, you're about to have another baby and you've spent four and a half days holed up with some psycho, so you need to talk or process or whatever. Or just rest."

Cal got to his feet, his ribs still causing him discomfort, but already feeling a world better. He followed his daughter to the hallway. "Hey," he stopped her and pulled her into another hug. "It's all right." He soothed. "I'm right here." He could feel her sob.

"I just keep thinking about Gillian and the baby," Emily's voice was slightly muffled in his shoulder. His good shoulder. "She loves you so much. And you're so in love with her. It just seems cruel that someone or something would come along and tear you apart. Or at least try. It's completely unjust."

Cal rubbed her back with his right hand. Definitely no idea what to say or really even what she was talking about. While his current theory was that he knew his attacker and that the whole abduction _had_ been personal, somehow he didn't think it had anything to do with Gillian. It was not about getting back at her. Otherwise the nut-job would have phoned her to taunt, sent a photo or his finger. He suppressed a painful shiver.

But as for the cruel, unjust factor? "Have to agree with you on that one luv. The blows always hurt worse when they're unexpected," Cal told her softly. He heard her sniffle and then she straightened up. Not an all out bawl but a few tears had escaped into his t-shirt. "You all right luv?"

Emily wiped her cheek. "Yeah I'm ok. Just really relieved to see you." Cal gave her a wide smile. Emily laughed. "And that you haven't changed one bit."

"I haven't changed darlin'. Come and have dinna tomorrow."

"I can't. Mom and I have plans to go away for the weekend."

"When you get back."

"It's a date."

They cheek-kissed in farewell. Cal closed the front door and turned toward the living room. But he was already talking before he had taken a step. "You hear all of that?"

Gillian was standing just inside the door frame, leaning her left shoulder against it. "Uh huh," she nodded, looking up at him.

"Reckon she'll be all right?"

Gillian nodded again. "She's just processing."

Cal held out his hand. Gillian stepped closer to take it. "Come lie with me."

**PJ**

Days of chaos blended with moments of peace and quiet, when they were able to close their front door at the end of the day and shut out the world. Promised conversations didn't occur. So when Cal asked Gillian to 'lie with him' he had been correct. They were lying to each other. They were lying that everything between them was fine, as if nothing traumatic had even happened. Cal was lying that he wasn't as disturbed by what had happened than he really was. Gillian lied about not noticing. And being in labour. Even if it was sporadic at the moment.

Neither of them wanted to burst the bubble.

Cal had gone to call Tracy and thank her for offering him water and the phone. But when he had tracked down the number and dialled it, a police officer had answered. Cal wanted to know where she was. The police officer wanted to know who the hell he was. Cal explained and he was given another number to ring. This one was for the FBI field office in Delaware. He hung it up and called Ben. Ben filled him in on what had happened since he had discharged himself from the hospital.

In a very small window between the police descending on the farmhouse with the dusty yard, the assailant had come to collect his vehicle. Not knowing the full extent of the situation, Tracy had called her neighbour to let him know his truck was parked on her lawn. Now the guy was on the run. Slow to realise what had happened, Delaware police had locked down roads in and out of the town, then the district, now alerts were out on the state borders. He couldn't go to ground forever. And because Cal had gone to Tracy, they now had a name.

Brandon Mitchell.

And a proper description and his truck licence plate, known associates, family, credit card numbers, cell phone numbers. Cal had inadvertently blown the case wide open by going to Tracy. The next few days were full of frantic offices, and questions. He was asked to confirm his statement and sign it. His injuries were photographed again as the last of the bruises bloomed. He had more doctors' appointments, appointments with a physical therapist for his shoulder. Then a return trip to the hospital; they had found something strange on an x-ray and they wanted to check it again. It turned out to be nothing. Cal attempted to go into his own office to check the backlog, despite Gillian's clear but silent protest; except he couldn't get a moment's peace. And then there was Gillian's doctor's appointment, the confirmation that the baby had turned, but her cervix had not softened, and Doctor Johansson's disapproval of her ignoring his advice to slow down. The fact that she was having sporadic contractions made Johansson concerned.

After hearing that, Cal dragged Gillian to the bedroom and made her lie down. He was mad at her, for not looking after herself and their baby better. She got mad at him too for not understanding the situation she was in. They yelled. They never yelled. Gillian cried. Cal stormed from the room, slamming the door so hard a picture jumped from the wall and crashed into the table beneath it.

Cal stalked a loop around the house and then he was back, immediately sorry, begging for forgiveness. "I will neva forgive myself if I let that shit from last week come between us."

He paused, prepared himself for some serious sharing. "You know what kept me goin' each day? Afta each time I woke up from bein' knocked unconscious? It was you. It's always been you."

Gillian was crying a steady stream of silent tears. Cal was kneeling on the floor, looking up at her, imploring. The balance of mobility had tipped back into his favour, so he could do things like half-drag, half-carry her to the bed room and make her lie down. He could get to the door faster than she could.

"I'm sorry I got angry. I'm not angry with you. I'm worried sick about you and the baby. And I'm angry at that fuckin' bastard for almost takin' you away from me."

Cal took a breath.

"When I think about what could have happened it makes me sick to my stomach. I can't do this without you. I need you to look afta yourself. I'm here. I'm betta now. This chapta is closed."

Except it wasn't.

Cal paused. "Promise me?"

Gillian nodded. "I promise."

Cal mimicked her nod. He reached up and kissed her gently on the lips. She tasted of tears and sorrow.

"Except you're wrong," Gillian told him once he had pulled away. "This isn't over. You know how you said if something was really important that I should tell you; tell you in a way that was clear for you to understand?"

Cal nodded. He knew this was coming. And he was prepared for it however hard it would be to say the words. That's what happened when two self aware, intelligent people got together (and it was probably compounded by the fact that Cal and Gillian were psychologists); they could see problems and imperfections a mile off. While Cal hoped she would drop the subject; he knew her well enough that she would push him on it anyway.

"I need you to tell me the things you left out of your statement. It's important. I don't want to accidentally suggest we holiday at a farm in Delaware without knowing that's where he kept you, for example. I don't want to push buttons I don't even know are there."

The thing with two aware people was that they constantly strived to be better, well adjusted people with healthy relationships. Cal knew he had to talk, just as much as Gillian knew she had to start thinking about the birth.

"When I go into labour, the last thing I want to be on your mind is last week," Gillian told him. "I dread going into labour until we've sorted this thing out." She started crying again. Hard to control at this point. "I don't want to have to worry about you and trying to give birth. Because I know you Cal. This will be on your mind and you won't be there. Not fully. I don't want you to miss it. I can't do it without _you!_ I need you to be there with me. I'm scared!"

"I'll tell you," Cal quickly cut in. "For the sake of puttin' it behind us. Don't be scared. I plan on bein' fully present when you give birth and every day afta." A pause. Hopefully he had a few weeks before she was giving birth... "But I feel humiliated." He could see the flicker of surprise on her face. He got up from the floor, climbed over her to the bed while she wiped her face and turned on to her other side to face him.

"There weren't any bathroom facilities." He stopped again. The words were quite literally sticking in his throat. "You know the last time I wet my pants?" He watched her carefully, almost daring her to react beyond her neutral listening face. "I was four and a half," Cal answered himself. "I was startin' school. Small for my age. I'm sure you can imagine."

Gillian gave a slight smile in response.

"In England you start at the next intake whetha you're five yet or not. I was terrified. My Mum was away. Thomas had told me about the monsta unda my bed that only had a go at school children. "

Gillian watched him passively.

"I'm forty-eight! The last time I peed myself was forty four years ago! Even when I was absolutely rat-faced I could still manage to undo my fly and piss against a wall. I might have peed all ova the bathroom floor once, but neva my pants."

"Kind of out of your control."

"You know the worst thing?" Cal ignored her comment. "He brought me a bucket to clean up. I mean, why did he have to show me any compassion?" Because it was so much easier to be angry with the man without it.

"Maybe the water was for drinking?"

"He didn't remove the gag," Cal explained. "So I wouldn't talk to him."

"Mmm," Gillian agreed.

"Why do you think he would say nothin'?" Cal asked his wife. "I mean, the whole time, nothin' but crickets. That's a little weird right? Usually a nut job wants to invoke more fear by tormentin' with words."

"Maybe he can't speak," Gillian suggested.

"Maybe he didn't think I was worth talkin' to."

"I don't think it's that. He was probably afraid of what you would say to him. If your theory is correct and he knows you, he would know you could manipulate him easily. You could probably talk him into letting you go."

"Fair point," Cal conceded.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Cal agreed lightly.

"Why didn't you call out? I might have heard you."

Cal thought he heard a hint of accusation in her tone. If he had, they might have stopped this whole thing before it had started. "I didn't want to drag you into it. I thought I could handle myself." He paused. "You know, normally I can handle myself. He got in a lucky strike, knocked the air out of me and then he stuck me." Cal was surprised by the own anger in his voice. He took a second to calm down again. He looked her in the eye. "I really was worried about you when he jumped me. I was scared if I called out he would attack you too. I didn't know then that it was personal."


	26. Chapter 26

Days passed. Cal went back to work. Gillian worked from home; she only came into the office if she needed to. They were working on letting normal return. Except they were also waiting for an arrest to be made and a baby to be born. At thirty-eight weeks, Gillian was considered full term but she was by no means over due. Her due date should have been fairly accurate. With IVF, they could pin point the exact week fertilisation and implantation occurred. But baby's followed their own rules.

Gillian practiced yoga in the mornings. She often beat Cal out of bed because of the baby pressing on her bladder. Cal missed the morning snuggles but watching her flex into a 'downward facing dog' pose lent him an uninterrupted view of her beautiful body. Cal tucked his hands behind his head to lever it up a little so he could watch her move in the sunlight. His shoulder was healing up incredibly quickly, although it would still be a month before it was completely normal again, and the older bruises were just about gone. Sometimes Cal could forget. Other times Gillian reminded him. Last night he had suggested he go pick up takeaways for dinner. She had almost flipped out, insisted that he get them delivered instead. Until Brandon Mitchell was in custody, she didn't feel comfortable with the idea of Cal stepping out of the house alone at night. Cal might have joked about getting a rape whistle if she had not been so serious. Her fear really scared him.

"Do you think he'll try again?"

"I don't know what he's thinking."

Neither of them did. Neither of them had done a psyche profile. They had been told explicitly not to get involved lest they compromise the case. Gillian made Cal promise her; she didn't want his obsession for the truth at any cost getting in the way of a solid conviction. Cal wondered if Brandon Mitchell really would risk crossing state lines just for a second attempt. He wished he knew the 'why', then he could be better equipped to make decisions about leaving the house after dark.

"Good mornin'," Cal greeted from the bed.

"Morning," Gillian responded, her face peaceful as she stretched her back out its full length. The yoga helped her back pain. She sounded as though she knew he was awake the whole time and he had been watching. "How did you sleep?"

"All right. How about you? I only noticed you get up twice."

"Then you missed the other two times."

Cal rolled onto his former side of the bed and then off the mattress. He used the toilet. The cuts on his face were small brown scabs now. The back of his head had a huge thick one he was tempted to pick around the edges. When he came back to the bedroom, teeth brushed and face washed, Gillian was standing at her Scotch dresser. She used it as resistance while she stretched a cramp out of her leg. Cal approached behind her, catching her eye in the reflection of the mirror.

"Can I help you with somethin' luv?" He stepped forward, pressed his fingers into the small of her back.

Her expression was almost instantaneous relief. Cal figured the yoga only went so far. "That helps," Gillian murmured appreciatively. And then Cal caught something in her expression he decided to jump on. Something too hard to resist.

"You know what a great form of pain relief is?"

"Codeine?" Gillian responded wistfully.

"I use alcohol," Cal countered, daring to tease her while she seemed to be in a good mood. He pressed around her lower back muscles, firmly, using the exact amount of pressure required to give her release. Back rubs were a nightly routine. "What do your books say about havin' sex when you're ten months pregnant?"

"They say go for it."

Gillian didn't have to ask him if he'd still love her when she was huge. She knew he would. She knew without a doubt that Cal would never stop loving her. And besides, she didn't feel insecure in her own skin. She never had. She wasn't fat; she was having a baby. She was beautiful. Cal should want her; otherwise there was something wrong with _him_.

**PJ**

"What if he's never caught?"

"Not like you to deal in 'what if's' luv," Cal noted gently.

"I'm seeing things in a different perspective."

Cal saw a twitch of her facial muscles. "You're in labe-a aren't you?"

Gillian looked mildly surprised, then resigned. She gave a slight nod, "I think so."

"Is it serious?" Cal asked next, feeling a little shot of excitement. They did a lot of waiting around these days. He needed some action. Something to keep his hands busy besides giving his wife a foot rub.

She shook her head slightly. "I don't think so." A pause. "How will I really even know?"

"They'll get longa, stronga and closa togetha," Cal recited.

Gillian took a deep breath. "Then no. It's not serious. Still just random."

"At least for now," Cal said hopefully.

Gillian gave him a slight smile. She still wasn't quite used to his optimism, but she still loved it. She wiggled her toes into his thigh. "Cal."

"Yes luv?" He looked up, blue eyes bright.

"Don't be mad at me, but I've changed my mind about the name."

Cal gave a slight eye roll, then a grin to show he wasn't serious. "You don't like Michael anymore?"

Gillian shook her head. "Sounds a bit like Mitchell."

"Don't let that bastard influence our lives anymore than he has."

Gillian gave a shrug. "I just changed my mind."

"All right, what do you prefer?"

"I don't know."

Cal seemed exasperated again. Then he quickly dropped it. "We can work it out late-a then."

He picked up her other foot. "Tell me how you're feelin'."

"Physically or emotionally?"

"Emotionally," Cal decided. He knew how she was feeling physically.

"Not sure."

Cal raised his eyebrows, waited for her to continue.

"Scared I think."

"About?"

"This," she put her hands over her abdomen. "I haven't done this before."

"Sure you have. With Sophie."

"That was different. I never gave birth to Sophie."

Cal gave a mental '_Ah'_.

"When I think about it, so much can go wrong."

Cal wanted to tell her that nothing would go wrong. He had lied to Zoe in the same way, easily in fact. But he couldn't lie to Gillian. It wasn't just that he knew she would see the physical manifestation of his deception in uncontrolled muscle reactions; he just couldn't lie to her anymore. He didn't want to.

"Are you listening?"

Cal realised he had been daydreaming. "Yes."

"No come back?" Gillian asked.

"Not sure what to say luv. It's gonna be tough. Physically, emotionally. For the both of us. Well maybe, worse for you durin' the actual birth part. But, even if I don't know exactly what will happen, I know that you can get through anythin'. If you can, I can. And if I can, you can. That's how it works. That's how it's always worked with us. We've always been there for each otha. That is somethin' I believe in. I trust that."

Gillian's expression was soft adoration. "Seriously, what's changed for you?" It was a gentle request, an invitation for him to open up even more. This time, Cal actually felt ready to do so. It felt a bit like tying up all the loose ends before starting a new chapter in their lives with the birth of their son.

Cal's phone starting ringing on the table next to them. He looked at Gillian. "I can ignore it."

'_Tell her, tell her now_!'

"That's ok, you answer it. I'm going to the bathroom."

Cal stood and helped her off the couch. It was incredibly comfortable for lounging on, but a nightmare for a heavily pregnant woman to get back to her feet from. Cal answered the call as she was wandering out of the room. "Yeah?"

"You better come in," it was Reynolds. "Virginia State Police just made an arrest."

Cal's heart started thundering. "I want him at the lab. I want to record everythin'."

"The assistant director agrees with you. Be there in three hours."

**PJ**

"I heard you had gotten married again but I figured it just couldn't be true."

Cal held up his left hand, ring finger extended with all the other's curled down. Out of the corner of Gillian's eye it looked like he was flipping the bird. She did a double take. Cal wouldn't be that blatantly rude, surely? But then, this was Jack Radar they were talking to. He probably _would_ be that rude when it came to him. And that, combined with the fact that Reynolds had blocked Cal's involvement in the interview, well Gillian could see he was already agitated. Bringing in Cal's nemesis was a poor judgement decision on Reynolds's part, or whoever higher up had made the decision, even if Gillian did agree that neither she nor Cal could be objective when it came to this case. Ria or Eli could have handled the interview and then at least it would have been Cal's house and Cal's rules; Rader was too much of a wild card and Cal liked to be in control.

"Hi Gillian," Jack greeted her next. His smile was warm, flirty, just like the last time she had seen him, years and years ago. It looked like he hadn't aged. His eyes were still steely blue, his hair a golden brown, his tan even and probably natural. His suits were expensive, his tie made of silk. He made the Radar Firm profitable. At the cost of his morality, Cal told Gillian. And from what Gillian could gather it was true. The Radar Firm was half the size of the Lightman Group but with twice the revenue. Jack didn't have qualms about cheating spouse cases. Cal said that put him in the 'PI spying scum' classification. Gillian, thinking she was far too influenced by Cal these days, agreed. In her head though. She wasn't going to tell Cal that she agreed out loud.

"Jack," Gillian responded.

"When are you due?"

"Very soon," Gillian responded, her smile polite. '_Now_.'

Jack turned back to Cal. His face was a picture of contrite. "I was really sorry to hear about what happened to you."

Gillian immediately saw two things. Cal's humiliation and then his rage. Jack saw the anger though, being too slow to catch the shame a micro-micro second before. Gillian understood why though. Jack was a particular brand of 'I think you're really nice but I will stab you in the back'. She had no idea why he and Cal had fallen out, but if Jack was going to use this situation as an opportunity to get back at Cal for a grudge nearing on a decade, she was going to kick him in the balls.

Cal stepped into Radar's personal space, his head titled back to make up for his smaller stature. Jack took a half step back. "If you screw this intaview," Cal threatened. "I will personally destroy you."

Jack looked scared for a half second then arrogance flooded back into his face. "You've made that threat before."

"I've neva had so much ridin' on it before," Cal growled, his blue eyes almost as steely as Jack's. Gillian noted the bunched fist at his side, the set of his jaw, and was scared by how much he was letting his emotions through. But she didn't stop him. She never stopped him. Even when she actually tried to.

It was Jack whose eyes slid to the side to look at Gillian. In that second he seemed to be weighing up his options in regard to retaliation. This was a big opportunity for many things for Jack. Get back at Cal. Cement a good working relationship with the FBI, start the thread for a new kind of reputation. Or get back at Cal, his former mentor, the man, if he managed to assert his authority over, who he would finally be able to surpass. Cal was like a father figure in that way, and Jack was the little boy who wanted to prove to his Dad that he was man now. As long as Cal was around, Jack would always be in his shadow, no matter how successful his own company was.

"Now's not the time for a pissing match," Ben told them sharply, striding into the room. Gillian was amazed to see Jack actually look rebuked. He took a step back. Behind him the man, who Gillian assumed was Brandon Mitchell, was being led around the cube to the back entrance. He had his hands cuffed in front of him, linked by a chain around his waist to cuffs around his ankles. He had a black bag over his head so that he wouldn't know where he was, how he had gotten there, or who else was in the building.

"Holy cow, you're about ready to burst," Eli announced his presence a moment later, striding into the room.

Cal turned his wrath. Gillian stepped in between them just as Ria got to her feet and smacked Eli on the back of the head. "Diplomacy," she told him while Eli winced.

"Sorry," he apologised quickly.

"Make anutha crack like that and I'll be smackin' you with somethin' harda than the back of my hand," Cal snarled, blue eyes flashing.

"Stop it," Gillian told him placing her hands on his arms, imploring with her eyes.

Jack backed up a few steps, released from Cal's stronghold.

"I said I was sorry," Eli complained.

Ria dragged him to the video panel. "You need a filter for your tongue," she told him.

"Cal," Gillian tried again to get him to focus on her, not the chaos around them.

"Touchy subject," Eli continued.

"Cal," Gillian tried once more.

"You think?" Ria told him. "Do your job and shut your trap."

"Do that," Cal pointed a finger in their direction. "That's a fantastic idea."

"Get in there now," Ben told Jack, pointing his finger with a glare. Gillian took note of the anger on his face too.

"Cal, I just want you to know, I'm going to do everything I can in there to get this guy," Jack offered. It seemed sincere. Gillian wasn't sure. Cal turned out of the grip of her hands, glared at Jack.

"Cal," Gillian tried again, she tugged on his arm. Then she stuck her fingernails into his flesh. Not on purpose. A strong contraction rippled through her abdomen, catching her off guard. Jack started to walk away and Ben followed; he didn't have to add that Cal and Gillian, Eli and Ria, several FBI agents and the state's prosecutor would all be standing outside watching every move Jack made. Simultaneously, Cal turned to Gillian suddenly surprised. His face was a question. She gave a slight nod. Ria and Eli sat at their places in front of the computer screens, ready to monitor Brandon's responses. Inside the cube, another assistant was sticking pulse rate monitors to Brandon's neck. The glass had been set into a two way mirror. Agents were hovering in the room, and outside the door.

Cal guided Gillian to a chair. He kissed the top of her head. "You, take it easy," he murmured into her hair, sounding calmer, relaxed again. The representative from the DA's office arrived and Cal moved off to talk to her. Gillian, not willing to jump up and follow him, reached for a note pad and a pen. She studied Brandon's face for the first time, while noting that in the background, the DA was objecting to Reynolds about how highly unusual it was for the victim to be present during and for the questioning to even be conducted at his place of business.

Brandon sat like stone. He barely moved. His green eyed gaze was straight ahead. It almost looked like he was staring Gillian straight in the eye. And it made her feel uncomfortable. She felt the baby push out against its confines and absently rubbed a hand over that spot. She told herself that Brandon couldn't see her; her discomfort was not logical. She checked the computer monitor next to her, a close up of Brandon's face. His hair was a medium brown, cut short, but dishevelled. He had full lips, a Roman nose; he was good looking. His skin was smooth, a dark mole above his right eyebrow. There was a bandage taped to the right side of his head where Cal had struck him. Gillian figured he would not have gone for treatment immediately and the wound could be infected, or he could even be concussed and not even have known. He was so still, it was hard to detect the movement of him even taking a breath. Then his right nostril flared. Gillian noted it down. Ria looked over at her. She had seen it too.

Cal came to pace behind where Gillian was sitting while Reynolds and Jack settled in for questioning. Brandon's gaze shifted between the two of them but he barely reacted. Every so often Cal would point at the screen and ask loudly if anyone else had seen the miniscule reactions of the muscles in his face. There were flickers but Gillian couldn't pin point much of a reaction to anything. Ben started out nice, then hammered Brandon, then pretended to get exasperated and give up. Jack had a go, sticking firmly to the 'calm and reasonable' cop. Cal got more frustrated and Gillian's contractions got stronger to the point of distraction.

Finally Ben called a break. Gillian definitely caught the relief on Brandon's face, two seconds before she heard the door slam and turned to find Cal gone. She got up to follow him. She heard Ben ask where she was going. Ria answered for her. Cal was in his office by the time she caught up to him. She needed to pee desperately but ignored it and the sudden shunt of the baby inside her. "Cal," she stopped him mid-pace, even as he tried to dodge around her. If she hadn't been heavily pregnant she was pretty sure he would have barged her out of his way. "Please stop moving around. I'm too tired to chase you."

His angry expression softened. "Come and sit."

"No I don't want to sit. My back is killing me."

"Well then," Cal seemed at a loss to come up with a new solution. He turned her by the shoulders gently and lifted up the back of her shirt to press his fingers against her flesh. "You were sittin' for too long."

"I know," she sighed, feeling the aching being obliterated by his direct touch.

"You should go home luv."

"No way are you cutting me out of this."

Cal sighed.

"Give them a chance. It's only been two hours."

**PJ**

Two hours dragged into five by the end of the day. It was Gillian who brought it to an end. Brandon was not talking. He barely flinched. He shifted once to flex his shoulders. Ben yelled, got up from his chair, tried intimidation, but aside from a natural response to the sudden change in volume, Brandon merely blinked. Eli and Ria tracked the changes through their computer screens, noting down fluctuations in body temperature. Everything was recorded. Gillian noted down the reactions to specific word choices. She gathered information on Brandon's background. She went to the bathroom constantly, while there tried to fight back tears, and more than anything, she tried to cover the discomfort of contractions every thirty to forty five minutes.

And Cal. Cal paced. He growled. He bitched. He brought Gillian lunch, refused to eat himself and disappeared to his office, where, Gillian assumed, he watched the live feed on his personal computer. No one went to fetch him once Gillian had decided that they weren't going to get a breakthrough in that session. She waited for Brandon to be taken away, the black bag over his face again so he couldn't identify anyone or where he was being questioned. Surely he could work it out, Gillian thought. If he knew who Cal was he could safely assume, if he wasn't going to be questioned at the J Edgar Hoover building downtown, that he would be brought to the next best place: the Lightman Group. Now Gillian wondered if it was a good idea having him there.

Ben left with Brandon and the state's attorney. Eli and Ria packed down their work stations. And Gillian rushed to the bathroom once again. Her reflection looked tired. A squeeze of her uterus made her grip the sink until her knuckles were white. It made her want to throw up. She felt her shoulders tense into painful knots as the last wash of pain radiated out through her thighs. '_Wholly shit_,' she thought. This was getting serious.

She dislodged her fingers and turned on unsure legs. Cal was in his office. He had the video footage of the interview projected on the wall. He was watching it intently, face peering up, and his body so still he looked like part of the furniture. "Cal," Gillian warned him she was there. He didn't turn. "We're finished for the day. Everyone has gone." She crossed the room, feeling her confidence returning with each step. The contracts were getting stronger, but they weren't getting closer together. That was only one point out of three. They still had time. She reached him and touched his arm. He turned to her, his eyes distorted through his glasses.

"What's that luv?"

"Take me home."

Cal turned to her more fully. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine, but the day is done and I'm tired and I need to go home."

"What do you see?" Cal asked her.

"I don't know."

"What do you see?" Cal asked again.

Gillian studied the image in front of her thinking that this was a face that would haunt her dreams for a long time. She hoped the face of her baby would erase it. But not before Brandon confessed to taking Cal and holding him for four days while physically assaulting him. Because with so little evidence, they needed Brandon to admit it. Forensic investigators had gone through the farm house and found Cal's blood on the floor. They could tie Cal to the premises, but not Brandon to the crime, even though it was his house. They were still waiting for information to come back from Cal's clothes. But Brandon's knuckles and fingernails had been processed and they were not damaged. Cal didn't recall being hit with anything but his boots and his fists.

"He's angry. Jack's getting to him," Gillian supplied.

"No he's bloody not!" Cal countered. He sped through the video to a specific point, he rewound it back, froze it.

"Contempt," Gillian looked again. She felt the little hollow of disappointment that she had gotten it wrong. She was never going to see what Cal saw. She didn't want to.

"That," Cal looked up at the massive overblown image of Brandon's face on his office wall. "Is a classic contempt expression." He pointed to the raised lip. "He's laughin' in Rada's face." He turned to her. "And he's laughin' at us."

Gillian felt a pang of desperation. She was in labour and she needed to go home to rest; who knew when the baby was actually going to come? Cal was hurting and he needed to close this case. Which was the bigger problem? Which one should she deal with first?

"I saw that," Cal sighed. He looked wistfully up at the screen again and then clicked it off with the remote in his hand. He threw it onto his desk. "Let's go home. We can deal with this wanka late-a."

Gillian felt too grateful to question him on it. "Bring it home."

"Huh?"

"The footage. Bring it home. I'll get my notes. We can go over it after we eat."

Cal gave her the car keys and a quick peck on the cheek. "I knew there was a reason why I married you," he said quickly as he rushed out of the room.

Gillian laughed to herself, suddenly feeling lighter. She went to her office for her purse, then back to the lab and gathered up her folders. She hefted them under her arm and waddled her way down to the car. She unlocked it, dumped her stuff in the trunk and climbed into the passenger seat. She waited another fifteen minutes for Cal. He came back with his lap top under his arm. He put it on the seat behind him and then settled behind the wheel.

"All right," he breathed deeply, like he was catching his breath. "What do you want for dinna?"

"Food. And instantly."

"Chinese, pizza, Thai, Indian?"

"Burgers."

Cal gave a flicker of muscle around his eye.

"I'm craving a burger," Gillian supplied. "With fries."

"Burger's it is."

"And not MacDonalds."

"Instant burgas that's not Macca's," Cal echoed pulling his seatbelt on quickly and turning over the car engine. They found a gourmet burger place and Cal negotiated two of their fastest burgers and a side of chunky potato chips with aioli dip. Gillian started eating her hot fries before they had left the building. By the time she got home they were gone. She fed a few to Cal while he drove. She was glad he was being in the moment with her. He could have stewed. But he didn't. He sat and ate with her. He helped her with the shower and into clean pyjamas and then set up on the bed with laptops and folders crammed with notes and information packets.

Cal watched the footage again. Gillian worked on her psychological profile; Reynolds be damned. It was based on information she had found about Brandon's upbringing, his family history, friends, schools attended, jobs, physiological aspects (there was nothing wrong with his vocal cords or speech). Gillian heard Ben's voice on the recording out of the corner of her mind; she would have given Cal the notes she had taken during the day if he hadn't been the world's leading deception expert. Everything and anything she had seen, Cal would have see more.

Gillian curled over the page until her shoulders started aching. Her mind was alert; her body was fading. She rolled her neck, then tried dropping her shoulders and tipping them back. The tension didn't ease. And she needed the bathroom again. She shifted the notepad off her knees and disturbed several papers onto the floor as she got up. While she was in the bathroom she brushed her teeth. Cal was still watching his laptop intently while she packed up her folders and papers and stuck them on the bedside table. She was feeling sleepy now. The papers on the floor, she had to ignore because she couldn't reach them. She couldn't even reach to put her shoes on anymore. She spent her days in comfy clogs, which pleasantly and surprisingly went with a lot of her outfits.

Gillian settled under the covers, a thin blanket over her only, because she was so warm these days. She turned on her side, hugging a pillow against her chest and let out a deep breath. She shouldn't have sat so long. She should have gone for a walk after dinner. It helped to ease the tensions of her body. She shouldn't have had a mass of greasy chips and then a greasy cheeseburger for dinner. It was going to give her heartburn later and probably make her night uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than a bursting bladder, a baby's body squished up inside her, and a head in her pelvis.

She reached across and turned out her lamp. It wasn't dark enough but she closed her eyes, tried to relax her muscles. She probably wasn't going to sleep much with Brandon Mitchell her in head anyway. The way he sat there, so stoically. Surely there must be something going on in his head. Was he calculating how much they knew? Was he trying to hold out until they gave up? They had made the arrest. He was being charged. He had been given his rights. He hadn't asked for a lawyer. Gillian wondered if he really couldn't speak. She hadn't read anything in his medical file that said so, nothing in his childhood that indicated he had a speech impediment.

Cal leaned over into her ear. "Still awake luv?"

"Yes," Gillian responded. She checked the time. Half an hour had gone by. Maybe she had started to drift off. It felt like five minutes.

"One minute, I'll join you."

She could hear him closing down the laptop. He went to the bathroom as the motor slowed the hard drive and went silent. Gillian could hear water running. She shifted her feet further apart to find more cool spaces. She actually felt more comfortable. Her eyes were closed again when she heard Cal come back into the room. She felt him move the computer and heard the rustle of him removing his clothes and then the simultaneous feel and hiss of him climbing under the covers. He kept shifting until he was right up behind her. His hand found its home in the small of her back and an involuntary moan escaped out of her.

"Long day for you," Cal noted gently, his voice coming from the back of her head.

"Yep," Gillian agreed.

"Should have come home hours ago."

"Probably."

"Still havin' contractions?"

"Yes."

"Strona, longa, close-a?"

"Stronger."

Cal kissed the crook of her neck. "Have I told you you're amazin'?"

"Tell me again."

"You're amazin'." Cal worked his hand against her spine, around her hips then up to her shoulders.

"Sharing time?" Gillian asked, curiosity getting the better of her despite knowing she should really go to sleep.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what you found."

"What do you want to know?"

"All of it."

Gillian closed her eyes again. She thought back. She told Cal about Brandon's family, mother, father, sister, brother. He was the youngest. The schools he had gone to, how well he had done academically. About the family property and how Brandon ended up on it. Where his various family members were now.

"He go to college?"

"No."

"Anythin' else?"

Gillian was silent for a second while she thought.

"Doesn't matta luv, we can talk about it tomorrow."

"Tell me what you found."

"The reef knot is important."

"How?" She wasn't sure that had answered her question.

"He could have tied a Granny knot."

"I'm not sure I'm understanding the significance."

"I'd bet he was in scouts or cubs or somethin' like that as a kid."

"He served in the Navy," Gillian supplied.

"Perfect."

"What's a reef knot?"

"Used for bindin' somethin'. Ova, unda, unda, ova. Makes it stronga than the knot you use to tie your shoes which is a Granny knot. Reef knots sit flat. Can't pull it apart."

"How do you know about knots?"

"Cubs."

"You were in cubs?"

"When I was five, yeah, I was. Neva thought it would come in handy until now." Cal paused, his hand stilled. "Feel betta?"

"Yeah."

Cal moved away.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Sorry I didn't think to leave soona."

"It was better that we were there to see everything."


	27. Chapter 27

Crack of dawn, which in summer was quite an impressively early time. Gillian got up to use the bathroom. She thought about what it would be like when she didn't have to do that anymore. Then again, the bathroom breaks would be replaced by feeding her baby. At least the contractions let her sleep at night even if her bladder didn't. As Gillian climbed back into bed, she felt a flutter of anticipation and anxiety. She wanted this day to be over with so she could focus on starting their family together. And then maybe Cal could move on too. She knew he was planning something. She thought about asking him what it was. She wondered if he would even tell her.

"Stop watchin' me sleep," Cal muttered.

Gillian smiled to herself mildly. He had looked so peaceful she had missed that his breathing had shallowed out as he woke up. He was turned on his side, facing toward her, the teddy bear Emily had given her in his hand. "You're nice when you're asleep," Gillian told him softly. "Still."

Cal's lip curled up in amusement. He opened an eye. He closed it again, turned on to his back and stretched out. Then he pulled the sheet over both of their heads and snuggled in close to her, both pale blue eyes watching her intently. "So? Shall I prepare for a rush to the hospital?"

"Not at this moment."

"Seems a bit of a tease, all this stop, start."

"You're telling me," Gillian shifted closer to him so she could tuck her face into the crook of his neck.

"You know, you don't have to come in today."

"Are you kidding me?" Gillian responded indignantly, shifting her head back to look at him.

Cal continued as if she hadn't spoken. "You can stay home and rest."

"Because it's Sunday?"

Cal tucked the sheet behind his head. He used the teddy bear to bounce gently up her stomach to her breasts. He nuzzled it between them, making Gillian laugh despite wanting to sound seriously determined. She thought about suggesting he stay with her. But he would refuse. And she would just be hurt by the rejection.

Cal ditched the teddy bear and placed his hand over her stomach. He rubbed it, pressed gently against her skin to feel the baby press back under his fingers. "Hello in there. We're waitin' for you."

Gillian had a mental image of her crossing her ankles and holding the baby inside her. She didn't want him here yet. As much as she would love to ditch the most uncomfortable feeling she had ever experienced, she also knew if the baby arrived before Brandon Mitchell cracked, it would be some of the worst timing in her life.

**PJ**

"You're not gettin' anywhere," Cal countered roughly. Gillian heard his voice absolutely strain with frustration. But on the outside he was a picture of calm.

They were taking a bathroom break. Brandon Mitchell's request. He had a quiet voice, calm to the untrained ear. Gillian heard sounds of strain. And now that he had opened his mouth, she was sure she would remember his voice for a very long time. She had tried not to look over at Cal, but couldn't help it, and saw the flicker of anger as his tormentor requested use of amenities.

"No way am I letting you in there," Ben countered. "It'd be completely unprecedented not to mention unethical."

"He has the right to face his accusa."

"In a _courtroom_," Ben spluttered.

"You've been at it for hours," Cal pointed out reasonably. At least he didn't imply it had been 'days'. "I just want a word with him. No shoutin' a promise. I don't even wanna get in on the interrogation. I just wanna ask him one question. Then I'm outta there again."

Ben looked at Gillian for support. She gave a slight raise of her eyebrows. She had to look as though she was considering it. Truth was, she was up for it. Whatever Cal was up to, and she knew he had a plan, she just needed to be convincing enough to encourage Ben to let Cal do what he wanted, without Ben feeling like he had been manipulated. Jack Radar sat quietly in the back of the conversation, not a complete picture of devastation, but close to it. He had failed.

"Five minutes."

Ben looked again at Gillian and she realised he was weighing up whether she should go in with him. "I'm in labour," she lied. He looked surprised.

"See? Five minutes," Cal pushed. "Then we're outta here anyway."

Gillian saw Ben give a definite waiver. He rubbed a hand over his face. "All right fine. Five minutes only. I'm counting it down."

"Clear the room," Cal called over his shoulder. Gillian expected Cal to run through the cube's door but he casually strolled over to it as if he had all the time in the world. And she noticed he locked the door behind him, while the FBI agents in charge of Mitchell's security were still milling around outside waiting for agent-in-charge Ben Reynolds to signal they were starting up again.

"What does he mean clear the room?" Ben asked Gillian. She gave a slight shrug. She didn't know. She spun around in her chair to watch Cal move slowly around the seated Brandon Mitchell. Clear surprise flashed on Brandon's face as Cal came into his line of sight. Point one to Cal.

"I think your agents should leave," Gillian murmured. Her staff were already on a minimum. Even though this was probably the most personal and important case they had ever worked, she hadn't asked anyone to come in on the weekend.

"How you doin'?" Cal offered his hand to Brandon. "Oop sorry, that was rude," Cal said amicably. He took a seat, giving a friendly grin. Brandon flashed contempt; his hands were still cuffed. Point two to Cal. He was already making far more progress in unsettling Brandon in less than two minutes than Jack Radar and Ben Reynolds had in twenty-four hours. "Thought we might have a chat." Cal watched him carefully. "I assume you know who I am."

A slight nod in response. Point three to Cal.

"Seein' as everyone has cleared off for a minute," Cal continued.

"Now," Gillian said getting to her feet. She would be the slowest out of the room if she didn't move it immediately. She headed for the door.

"Let's go," Loker announced from behind her.

Gillian headed down the corridor. "Cal's office," she directed. Ben hurried his agents, Ria rushed past her. Loker closed the door. When Gillian reached the office Ria had moved Cal's comfortable desk chair around the table for her. She handed over the wireless keyboard and Gillian entered the codes to allow them access to the video feed of the cube.

When it came up, Cal was sitting with his hand raised dramatically in the air next to his head, fingers poised to snap. "Ready?" He was saying. "It's a neat trick."

Brandon was pretending to be bored.

Gillian felt a mild contraction.

"Should I really have left those two alone in there?" Ben asked.

Loker shushed him. He had quickly taken the keyboard from Gillian and his fingers were also poised for action. Cal suddenly clicked his fingers and by a stroke of genius anticipation on Eli's part, the fogged out glass of the cube faded into clear. Now Brandon could see the entire room he was really in. He looked around, surprised, unsure, definitely unsettled. Gillian had lost track of the point count already, but despite Brandon's silence, Cal was certainly winning.

Gillian looked around for Jack. She couldn't see him. She looked up at Ben. "Radar doesn't leave your sight. You hear me?" She warned.

Ben turned to another agent, requested he track down the missing man and make sure he stayed with them.

"So. As you can see, we're alone." Cal leaned back in his chair, casual as hell. He gestured around them with wide arms. "I just wanted to ask you one thing."

Brandon shifted slightly in his chair. Gillian caught his hands folded into each other. Self-comforting. He was nervous.

"Did you know my wife is pregnant?" Cal asked with a neutral tone of voice, raised slightly at the end in question only. Brandon's face flinched.

"Wasn't expecting that were you?" Eli asked the screen. Gillian shushed him.

"Yeah," Cal gave a slight nod. "You had no idea." A pause. "That's all right. She's not due for ages yet." He leaned forward slightly. "You got kids? No," Cal answered himself. "But you have family right? Where are they?"

No response.

Gillian sat tensely, wondering if Brandon would actually answer. It looked like he wanted to and was trying to hold it in. She wondered if Ben would intervene. Cal had certainly asked more than one question just now...

"Well, if you know me, and we know that you do, you know that I don't need you to ansa my questions because I can see on your face a 'yes' or a 'no'," Cal spoke lightly. "So, I know you have family. But I'm guessin' that they're not exactly nearby anymore are they?"

Brandon narrowed his eyes slightly.

"I heard they died." Information Gillian had uncovered yesterday. "Your Mum and Dad. Sorry to hear that. My Dad just passed away recently. Tough on my Mum. I try to get home and see her."

Brandon relaxed again.

"But your sista. Now there's a different story. Not copin' too well with it is she?" Casual but as antagonistic as hell. Cal sounded like he could have been talking about sport. A flash of anger and then contempt. Gillian watched as Brandon's fingers curled into fists.

"Undastandable," Cal continued as if they were having a conversation about the weather. He gave a nod to confirm. "Nice of her to let you have the farm."

Gillian wasn't entirely sure that was how Brandon had ended up with the family property. There was another sibling Cal wasn't mentioning, an older brother. And she didn't know if Cal's explicit use of the word 'farm' had meant to hit a tender spot, or whether it was an innocent slip of the tongue. But that struck a nerve with Brandon too. One big enough that a vein started to stick out of his neck.

"You seeing this?" Eli asked without breaking eye contact with the video feed projected on the office wall. Gillian nodded, didn't care that no one was looking at her to see her response. The feed they were watching was from over Cal's shoulder. They could see Brandon clearly but only the back of Cal's head.

The Mitchell property was just the house now, not any of the surrounding land. It had been broken up and sold off in sections to the neighbours on either side as they hit hard times and harder times still during the recession. Brandon was clearly upset about Cal mentioning it. While Gillian admired, even loved watching Cal work the long con, she also hated to be left out of the loop. But to play her part, even if it was a small role, like in this one, she had to let Cal manipulate her too. The less she knew, the easier she was to manipulate. The trick was not to try and guess what he was up to, but to simply react how she would if she had no knowledge of him working a con. She didn't even know now, for sure, that he was playing a game with Brandon. He might honestly, just want his five minutes to talk to the young man, not try for a confession.

Normally, when they interrogated a subject, Cal would be animated. Today he sat still and casual. Normally, he would use props, photos, gestures, furniture, clothing, video footage. Today, he didn't even raise his hand to stir the air. He was using words, his psychology, to wear Brandon down. He cut back and forth through seemingly random conversation about himself, and then Brandon, as if they were bonding over a beer. Gillian believed it was a combination of the fact that it was Cal, his victim, doing the questioning as if nothing had actually happened; and the swift changes in topic that had Brandon in a mild sweat. Cal might have to resort to wearing Brandon down minute by minute just as Jack and Ben had attempted, but his method was working. Brandon swallowed in almost precise two minute periods. And Gillian's contractions started hitting her every twenty minutes. Not as strong as they were yesterday though; still only one point out of three.

"I have an olda brotha," Cal suddenly announced. He hadn't moved once from his position, his left arm draped over the back of his chair. He didn't move it around much, because it was weak from the dislocation, and it was taped strategically to support the muscles beneath his shirt and jacket. His ability to keep so purposefully still for a full two hours was admirable. He talked constantly, question after question, seemingly random anecdote after anecdote. Eli quipped that he might bore Brandon into a confession. Ria shushed him this time. She had never seen anything quite like this. Neither had Gillian for that matter.

"This is ridiculous," Ben complained. "He's going around in circles."

Eli, Ria and Gillian shushed him. It was like watching a verbal game of chess; each and every move planned and anticipated. Cal was guiding Brandon through the game until he had him exactly where he wanted him. Check mate.

Gillian got up. She needed the bathroom desperately. She had been resisting it for nearly two hours so she could watch Cal. She saw Jack Radar in the back of the room, head down, watching the screen through narrowed eyes. He was trying to make himself smaller. Gillian bee-lined the door, relieved that he was there and not wandering through the rest of their offices. Cal said he was a sneak and not to be trusted.

Gillian rushed back to Cal's office. He was standing now, next to Brandon, who had his head tilted back to see Cal. It took her a second to catch onto Cal's train of speech. Everyone else in the room was riveted to the screen.

"You think he would be impressed?" Cal growled in a low voice. "You think he even knows about this?"

Gillian saw Brandon's eyes flash in anger. An anger that scared her.

"He's in his tidy warm cell thinkin' about the days when he could run free on the family farm."

He could have been talking about their pet dog for all Gillian knew.

"Shut up," Brandon requested quietly, but with a strong distaste in his voice.

Cal lowered his head so he was leaning over him. "He wouldn't even be impressed. What were you hopin' for? His approval? Money for my return?"

Gillian was so confused. Who was he talking about?

Brandon glared up at him, his jaw set tightly.

"You're just a little shit playin' in some dangerous mine-field you know nothin' about. You gotta pick em betta. You needed someone with somethin' goin' for them. The CEO of a large company, or their kid, not some gobby Brit who barely clears his employees salaries at the end of the week." Cal spoke quickly, quietly, the words driving home as if he had shouted them.

"You deserved it," Brandon spat at him.

Cal straightened up suddenly. "I deserved it."

Brandon shot to his feet. Ben took two steps towards the door and then hesitated. Gillian felt a contraction that put a prickly fear through her back. Stronger, closer together. Two for three.

Cal laughed. "I deserved it?" His face was obvious amusement. Only Gillian could see the hurt in his eyes.

"Got him," Ria noted. Ben started heading for the door again.

"I loved your place by the way," Cal kept going, pure antagonism. "Had a real rundown homely feel to it."

Brandon suddenly smashed his head into Cal's face.

"Oh god!" Gillian's hands shot to her mouth as Cal stumbled backwards, a spray of blood erupting from his nose. Brandon shuffled forward as Cal fell back on his right shoulder. As Cal hit the ground Brandon stomped on his guts, the chains around his ankles allowing for just that amount of movement. There can't have been much force behind it, but it was enough for Cal's air, unprepared, to 'ooof' out of him. Brandon started laying in kicks as Ben reached the cube door and rattled the handle. He didn't have the code for it. Gillian was torn between rushing to get the lock and being glued to watching what was happening to her husband, in case she missed something, like when she had gone to the bathroom a minute ago. The other agents rushed out of the room.

"You fucking smug bastard!" Brandon screamed at the huddled figure of Cal on the ground. There was blood on his hands and he was trying to protect his ribs and curl up to protect the rest of his body. "You ruined my family!"

"Four!" Cal called out. Another foot found a lucky shot to his solar plexus and Gillian watched as he gagged. "Seven!" He ducked his head as another foot came his way. Gillian realised he was calling out the number for the lock on the door. He managed a few more numbers before Brandon, probably realising that he was locked in there with Cal and that Ben couldn't get through the door without the code Cal was reciting, dropped into a crouch. Cal fought his hands but his left arm was still weak and Brandon was strong. His fingers felt their way around his throat.

Gillian felt physically sick.

"Give me the last number!" Ben yelled through the door. "Cal!" He banged on it. The cube door was solid. Ben couldn't see what was going on in there.

Cal thrashed. Brandon dropped to his knees for more stability. Cal thrashed harder, his face turning red, his slick fingers desperately trying to claw Brandon's hands away. But Gillian didn't see fear in his eyes, even as Loker pushed the camera in closer. There was no desperation, nothing.

"Five," Gillian finished. "Five," she said again, more forcefully. She turned to head down the corridor. Ria rushed past her. Gillian cursed being pregnant right at that moment. It took her far too long to cross the building. By the time she got there Ben had a gun on Brandon backed in the corner of the cube, sitting in a heap of his own arms and legs. He had his hands on top of his head and he was breathing heavily. Cal was sitting up slightly while Ria crouched down in front of him, probably trying to check his status. Cal fended her off and sprung to his feet as if nothing had happened but a friendly game of football. As Gillian rounded the cube door she could hear Ben telling Brandon he was in deep shit and going away for a long time. Ria was asking Cal if he was ok. One of the agents was on his radio, requesting a transfer and extra hands. Then he looked at Cal, "And an ambulance."

"Don't need it," Cal shot at the agent and brushed past Ria despite her objections. He stopped when he saw Gillian waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, the slightest hesitation and then he bounded down the steps and stood in front of her. "All right?"

"I'm not leaving here unless you agree to going to a hospital."

Cal studied her. She was serious. And she knew that he would not forcibly move her out of the way. Not while she was heavily pregnant. And in labour. Not a lie anymore. All of that she could convey to Cal in one expression and all of that he understood in the way she set her jaw. "Fine," he sighed. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. It came away in blood. "You betta drive."

The journey took twenty minutes. Gillian seethed. Cal waited for her to calm down. Or process. Whatever it was that she was doing. Blood injuries got priority in an emergency room. They were shown almost immediately to a cubicle and ten seconds later a nurse came to do an initial assessment. She checked Cal to make sure there was nothing life threatening. She gave him a cloth for his nose, which was still oozing blood. He had a trail of it down the front of his shirt and his hands were caked in it. The bandages around his wrists, still present even after two weeks, were bright red again.

"So what happened to you?"

"Fell down some stairs," Cal said with a very serious face. The nurse studied him for a long time, unsure and then made a note on Cal's chart. When they were alone again Gillian jammed a finger into Cal's ribs, not caring if the bruises were still sensitive or not. He probably had some new ones now too. Cal winced.

"Why did you do that?"

Cal looked innocently bemused, as if he didn't see what the big deal was.

"She's probably going to think I hit you or something worse. I hate it when you do that," Gillian spat venom at him.

"Sor-ry," Cal grumped.

"You just throw shit out there and not think about the consequences!"

"I do too," Cal countered.

Gillian continued. "You don't think how it's going to affect me!"

"What?" Cal asked unimpressed.

"He could have smashed you through the glass, you could have fallen on your shoulder. You could be in surgery right now."

"What are we talkin' about?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You had to antagonise him, just one more knife twist! You always do this!"

"I was tryin' to get a confession."

"You had your confession!" She stopped suddenly, a contraction squeezing down slowly. "Ow!" She curled over her stomach trying to rub the pain away. Longer. Three for three. Damn it. She didn't need this right now. She felt like her body was betraying her.

"What's wrong?" Cal asked suddenly concerned.

"Don't try and change the subject," Gillian panted to catch her breath. Her face felt hot. "He could have killed you Cal."

"He could have killed me last week. I knew you were all there watchin'."

"Not the point!" She hissed at him, aware that behind the thin curtain around them was a very large room with a lot of people in it. It wouldn't take much to cause a scene amongst them all. "You have to pounce on every little expression you ever see!"

"You're no betta than me; you see everythin' too."

"No, the difference between you and me is that I don't have to point everything out about everything to everyone. I don't have to act on everything I see."

Cal scowled. "This is really about the baby isn't it? The contractions gettin' stronga? You're worried about havin' the baby," Cal spoke gently.

"Stop it."

"You can't stop it," Cal told her. "He's gonna come when he's ready."

"I'm not ready!"

"Well you're gonna have to be."

"No Cal. If you're caught up with this," she gestured vaguely to the room. "Then I'm not ready to do this," she gestured at her stomach.

The curtain peeled back and a doctor came in wearing Royal blue scrubs. He was consulting the chart as he crossed the few feet to stand near Cal's head. He didn't notice the tears on Gillian's cheeks as she wiped them away. The doctor looked up into Cal's face. "Let's take a look at you."


	28. Chapter 28

Brandon Mitchell's brother had gone away to prison because of Cal. He didn't even remember the case but Brandon did. Brandon's sister then sold the last of the land to cover the cost of lawyers and court fees. Brandon blamed Cal. And being a former Petty Officer First Class in the Navy, attached to an extraction team, meant he had the strength and ability and skill needed to abduct someone and cover his tracks very well. It wasn't about money, it was purely about revenge. But by bringing up the money aspect, Cal had struck a nerve even Brandon didn't know he had. He might have been smart in the way he took Cal, but he didn't think through the potential. The money could have saved the family finances.

"Apparently he had this whole sordid plan of what he was going to do to you day by day," Reynolds informed him on the phone.

"Sounds delightful."

"You'll have to come back in, make another statement."

"You have everythin' on tape," Cal pointed out.

"It's a formality."

"I can't."

"Cal, this is important. I know you've done your bit... More than done it."

"Gillian's in labe-a and we're at the hospital," Cal clarified. "I won't."

Ben was flustered for a second. "Ok, well, then."

"We can sort it out late-a," Cal finished.

"Right. And uh, good luck with the baby."

"Cheers," Cal said pleasantly and hung up. He checked his watch. He'd been gone for five minutes. That was enough time for him to make another quick phone call.

"Hey Dad. I just got in."

"Lovely. I have to cancel dinna."

"Oh ok, we can do it tomorrow."

"Weelll, tomorrow's probably not gonna be good eitha," Cal felt a pang of excitement that kept his voice light. Emily would know nothing of Brandon's arrest, having been away for the last few days. But that wasn't important right now. "I'm at the hospital. Gillian's havin' the baby."

"Oh my god! Right now?"

"Well, certainly gettin' close." They had spent all of yesterday pacing around the house while the contractions worked their way up to the point where they could call Doctor Johansson and go to the hospital.

"Then you should not be on the phone to me." Emily sounded excited now too. "Call me when you get the chance."

"I will," Cal promised. He told her he loved her and hung up. Tucking his phone into his back pocket he made his way back to Gillian's room. She looked up at him from the bed, her face was red and there was sweat around her hairline.

"What did Reynolds want?" She asked tightly.

Cal came in closer. "Don't worry about it," he told her gently. Gillian's breath got heavier as she worked through another contraction. He had timed that nicely. When it had passed she asked him again, more forcefully. Cal explained the situation quickly. "But don't worry about it. It can wait until afta the baby comes."

Gillian lessened her grip on his finger. Just one finger so she couldn't crush his hand. She let out a deep breath and leaned her head back against the bed. "I'm just glad he's behind bars."

Cal knew who she was talking about but he refused to discuss it. She needed to focus on giving birth right now. No matter how many times he reminded her of that fact. In the background the foetal monitor beeped out the baby's heartbeat steadily. Gillian was a high risk pregnancy. She was restricted to bed. And she was uncomfortable. Cal reached for the damp washcloth he was using as a cold compress. He pressed it against her forehead. The crease of worry between her eyebrows relaxed into relief. "That feels good."

"I called Emily. She sends her love."

Gillian's eyes opened to watch him. Cal rinsed the cloth and wiped her neck. "You look terrible."

"Thanks luv." Cal didn't take the bait. She had been trying to pick a fight with him for the last twelve hours. He was pretty sure it was the frustration of being in labour and residual tension from Brandon Mitchell. Cal refused to let her antagonise him. He was going to rip away his shirt and reveal the coolest, calmest, most reasonable super-Cal ever! She was right though, he did look terrible; fresh black bruises under his eyes from a smashed nose. Still not broken though. Mitchell had not broken him.

"I can feel another one coming," Gillian told him.

"All right," Cal abandoned the washcloth, gave her his finger back, helped her sit up straighter. This time she cried out. Cal wondered if these birthing rooms were sound proof. The contraction lasted a long time and Cal knew they had reached a serious stage. He rubbed the back of her shoulders while she dealt with the pain and murmured encouragement. If there was ever a test in reading someone's body language to gauge what they wanted, or needed, now was the right time for it. Cal needed to comfort her by anticipation. With Zoe it had been the same, except Zoe had had an epidural. Gillian didn't want one. She wanted to do this naturally. When she finally relaxed again, Cal got the washcloth back, and ice chips.

"I'm sorry," Gillian panted at him.

"What for?" Cal asked absently.

"For picking on you."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm just scared."

"I know you are." Cal rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. "You'll be fine. Listen?" They were quiet for a moment, Gillian on the bed, her knees making an A frame against the mattress, Cal standing next to her, the muscle in his thigh aching from being stomped on. The baby's heartbeat filled the room. "That's our son Gill." He saw her blue eyes relax. "You can do this. For him."

Gillian nodded. She tilted her head back and Cal leaned down to give her a quick kiss. Gillian raised a hand to his cheek. "Can you do me a favour?"

"Of course luv."

"Can you get the nurse for me?"

"What for?"

"My water's just broke."

**PJ**

Gillian bore down until the effort ripped out of her throat in a cry of exertion. She could feel the baby right down in her birth canal. Cal told her the baby had crowned. But that was twenty minutes ago and surely it still could not have moved an inch since then? She could feel the sweat pouring off her and the cold washcloth felt so good when Cal wiped it over her forehead, cheeks and neck. Gillian pushed so hard, she felt she could collapse the bed with the sheer amount of downward force trying to squeeze the baby out of her. At the end of the contraction she fell back against the back of the raised bed, panting, seeing her vision cloud over slightly. She felt dizzy.

"Great work Gillian," Doctor Johansson encouraged.

Cal turned to her. "Gill, I can see him! You're doin' so good."

"I'm just going to check the cord and then you can start pushing again," the doctor told her. Or was he talking to Cal? His voice seemed to be very far away.

"Sweetheart?" Cal turned to her again. "Hey Gill?" She could hear the concern strike his voice.

There was an eruption of noise but it was hard to discern from where. She heard Cal talking to her frantically and the voice of the doctor but everything was fading in and out. Their voices, the room, her breath. She felt different hands on her, someone peering into her face and taking her pulse.

"The baby?" She muttered. "Cal?" Where had he gone? She was confused and suddenly scared. She felt really strange and there was a panic at the end of the bed and Cal wasn't standing next to her anymore.

**PJ**

Cal was torn. His wife or his son? The doctor was telling him, or the room, that the baby's cord had collapsed and they need to act urgently. But someone else was telling him, or the room, that Gillian's blood pressure had dropped into the floor. He was scared for both of them. Scared to the point of panic. Gillian was pale, whiter than he'd ever seen her, fading in and out of consciousness and the baby was blue, bluer than a new born should be; it hadn't taken its first breath yet. A nurse tried pushing him out of the way. He had drifted down to the end of the bed. "You need to give us space to work," the older woman told him firmly.

Cal could see the blood of the birth, the baby's head and the tip of its shoulders barely out and then a tray of shiny equipment. "Tell me what's goin' on?" Cal demanded.

"The baby's cord has collapsed, meaning he's not getting any oxygen," Doctor Johansson answered calmly. "I'm going to cut the cord immediately and encourage him to breathe on his own. The longer he goes without oxygen the greater the risk of brain damage."

Cal knew about the risks of brain damage. "And Gillian?" He looked back at her. Her blue eyes were blank, then came into focus a little. Cal stepped back and took her hand. It was cold. Someone else explained about the slump in her blood pressure. They dropped the back of the bed down suddenly to give her heart a chance to get blood to her brain. "But is she gonna be all right?" Funny how strange his voice sounded.

"She'll be fine once she comes round."

So back to the baby. Doctor Johansson had one gloved hand supporting the baby's neck as a nurse wiped around his mouth and another reached in to suction any amniotic fluid or vernix out of his airway. The doctor was working the umbilical cord up so he could cut it cleanly without stabbing the baby with the snips. Cal peered over Gillian's leg as best he could without getting in the way of the older nurse, the tense one. The last thing he wanted to do was get himself thrown out of the room. And he had a nasty habit of letting his mouth runaway on him at the worst times.

"Want to cut the cord?" Doctor Johansson asked.

"Yep," Cal immediately responded.

"I need you to act quickly," the doctor directed. "Come around here." Cal shifted so he was leaning over Gillian's knee, where the nurses had been a few seconds before. He showed Cal where he wanted the cut made and a nurse simultaneously handed over the snips. Cal's heart was pounding. It made his nose throb and his hands shake slightly.

Within thirty seconds the whole scary mess was over but to Cal it had felt like thirty minutes. Gillian started to ask what was happening. The baby was worked on a little longer and then opened its mouth and gave a great gasp as it sucked in air. Cal felt relief wash through him and Gillian's hand tighten on his as she pushed one last time under direction to expel the baby's body. Then the baby was whisked away to be checked over. They kept him for long, long minutes while he cried and Gillian sobbed because she wanted to see her baby boy.

"He's all right," Cal told her, pressing his forehead against hers, even though he had no idea if that was true. He felt like crying too. "He's all right. You're amazin'. It's ova." He repeated it a few times. Probably trying to convince himself. "He's all right. You're amazin'. It's ova."

**PJ**

Cal was hovering. He wanted to hold his son, or at least be able to see him. A paediatric doctor had been called in to take the Apgar score. It was a test of the baby's wellness one minute and five minutes directly after birth. Heart rate, respiration, muscle tone, skin colour and response to stimuli were tested. Normally, the mother was allowed to hold their baby and even feed them between the tests. But not Gillian. Although her blood pressure had evened out with the help of an IV line, the medical staff kept the baby to make sure it was breathing ok. A healthy baby had an Apgar score between seven and nine (each of the five tests were scored zero to two). Baby Lightman's first test score was low. So he was being closely monitored and not relinquished to his parents. The doctor was checking for perinatal asphyxia. And Cal was torn between being with his wife and the overwhelming wanting of being with his son.

Gillian was busy, being checked over by her own doctor. She had delivered the after birth ok and was being cleaned up. Cal could see she was distracted. She wanted to hold her baby boy. Cal could sense she was close to tears; he could _feel_ it from across the room. He wanted to give Gillian what she wanted. He thought about kicking up a fuss. But the tense nurse was still hanging around and Cal got the impression she wanted nothing better than an excuse to boot him out of the room. He was pretty sure he hadn't done anything obnoxious. Not yet anyway. Tempting though. And it was fuelled by a restless sleep the night before while Gillian was in labour and two incredibly long days thinking about Brandon bloody Mitchell.

The nurses around the baby suddenly began to drift away. The paediatric doctor looked over his shoulder and saw Cal standing there. Cal had lost track of their conversation. But he got the impression it was over, whatever it was they were doing. "Want to hold him?" The doctor asked him. The baby was still crying. Cal wondered how the hell the doctor could stand the sound, because all he wanted to do was pick the little boy up and comfort him. Cal moved in quickly. Of course he wanted to bloody well hold him. The doctor showed Cal how to swaddle the baby, as if he needed reminding; he could recall wrapping Emily up exactly the same way more than twenty years ago. Had it really been twenty years? He was completely insane doing this again. And then his son was in his hands, literally his hands, because he was so small and Cal was talking to him, telling him he was all right now.

"Your Dad has you little one, you'll be all right."

The baby quietened down a little. Cal turned, bringing him in closer against his body and moved to the bed. Gillian was sitting up, waiting, the anticipation rolling off her and wrapping around Cal's heart. First things first, deliver the baby safely to his mother. Let Gillian meet their son. Fulfil her dreams.

"Hi little guy," Gillian greeted in wonderment, looking down at the tiny bundle in her arms. In the next second she had tears on her cheeks. Cal figured she was feeling the same emotional response he had, but a hundred times stronger. Cal looked down at his son's face too, puffy eyes and slightly misshapen head; he didn't care. He was beautiful, precious. He kissed the side of Gillian's head. "Thank you," she looked up at him.

"No, darlin', thank _you_," he told her, feeling a lump in his own throat. He knew what she was thanking him for, encouraging her to have the strength to try again. And she knew what Cal was thanking her for, having the strength to go through with it.


	29. Chapter 29

Cal stared down at his new son in the plastic bassinet on wheels. He was tiny. Just seven pounds seven. Which seemed big, but the little guy wasn't very tall. Just like his Dad. Cal watched his son's sleeping features. He could swear the baby, despite the puffiness, looked like Gillian. He could see the newborn's eyes shifting under thin eyelids. He had dark hair, baby fine but not a lot of it. And he didn't cry much. Just kind of grizzled. More like a complaint really.

"Tell me you're not trying to read our son," Gillian's voice came from the bed.

Cal turned to look at her. Her cheeks were reddened from her nap. "Nope. Just starin' in complete and utta amazement." He crossed to the bed and perched on the side. Gillian immediately reached for his hand. Her blue eyes smiled at him and he was glad she was all right.

"Has it not sunk in yet?"

"Actually," Cal answered honestly. "No, I'm not sure it has."

"Same for me," Gillian admitted. "After everything. All those years. All those attempts. Kind of seems surreal that it really worked this time. I feel like I might wake up."

Cal nodded. He could completely understand where she was coming from. "Not gonna wake up from this one."

"I'm glad," Gillian gave a tentative smile. "And I'm glad it's with you."

Cal returned her smile warmly, rubbed a thumb along the back of her soft hand. "Thanks for that." Gillian's smile got a little firmer in response. "I'm gonna go home for a bit."

"Why?" Gillian looked mildly alarmed.

"So I can have a showa and get some food and pick up a few extra things in case we're stayin' longa."

"You think they'll keep us here over night?" Blue eyes questioning.

Cal didn't know. "Want me to get you anythin' in particula?"

"I can't think of anything right now."

"Call me if you do." Cal leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. "You should go back to sleep."

Gillian looked over at the plastic bassinet. "Yeah I think I might." She looked at Cal again. "You're not going to be long are you?"

"Nope. Not long at all."

**PJ**

"Hi Dad."

"You have a new brutha."

"Really?! That's so cool! Congratulations Dad!"

Cal beamed. He felt his chest puff out and his head tilt up in pride. "Thanks."

"How'd it go? Is everybody ok?"

"Yep. Gill's fine. The baby is... fine." A slight hesitation Cal hoped she wouldn't pick up on. He didn't want to get into the whole perinatal asphyxia over the phone. He didn't quite have it straight in his head yet. He just knew they would have to wait and see what happened with the baby now. He was fine, but there was a chance for lasting damage. "Wanna come up and say hi?"

"Are you still at the hospital?"

"Yep." Well, he wasn't right at that moment, but he was heading back there now. They hadn't been given an indication as to when they could go home. Maybe tomorrow. Cal hoped tomorrow. He wasn't really looking forward to spending the night in a chair; he just didn't want it to be two nights. Cal gave her directions to the maternity ward and which room they were in.

"Have you named him yet?"

"Actually no. We had a name all picked out and Gill changed her mind."

Emily gave a light laugh. "So I can just come up anytime?"

"Yep, anytime you want. I'll be here."

**PJ**

Gillian was attempting feed number two when Cal got back. Still not easy and she was still frustrated. Cal's first reaction was to go and pick up his crying son, but Gillian had to learn and so did the baby. Plus, there were two other women in the room giving pointers; patience beyond resilience. Cal felt a pang of guilt that he had abandoned Gillian when she clearly needed help. But again, he had to reason, breastfeeding was just a little bit out of his league. Instead he dumped the bags he had picked up from the house on a chair. He rummaged through one, found what he wanted and sat on the end of the bed. Gillian shot him a look of pure aggravation. He gave her an easy smile. Peaceful. He rubbed her foot absently through the thin hospital blanket while he produced the teddy bear Emily had gifted Gillian and sat it in the space between Gillian's feet. Gillian visibly relaxed. She would get the hang of it. He had faith.

When the baby had finished feeding and they were alone, the little curled body propped up against Cal's chest so he could rub the air out of his digestive system, Cal told Gillian he had invited Emily up to see them. "I wanted her to be first. Everyone else can wait until tomorrow."

"Sure," Gillian agreed.

"That's all right?"

Gillian nodded. "Of course."

"We should really come up with a name."

Gillian sighed, shifted her legs into A-frames. She winced slightly as she moved, still feeling tender from the birth. "We should," she agreed. "But I'm fresh out of ideas."

"Oh, I was hopin' you had some, cos I don't."

Gillian laughed lightly. Cal was pleased to hear that too. Despite being tired, physically exhausted, frustrated over the difficulties of breastfeeding, afraid of the complications from the birth, Gillian had managed a carefree laugh. "We were so organised!"

The baby gave a wet sounding burp. "That's my boy," Cal encouraged gently as if the newborn could understand him. He checked for up-chucked milk.

"Sorry I changed my mind."

"If it's not right, it's not right," Cal countered with a slight shrug. He focused on the baby in his arms again. He still had an uncomfortable frown on his face. Cal rubbed his fingers firmly up his warm back. "Come on," he coaxed. "One more and you're done. Then you can go back to sleep."

There was a tentative knock on their door. Cal strutted over to it, a more careful version of his usual confident stride. He pulled the door. Emily was waiting on the other side. She had flowers. "Hey you," Cal greeted. Emily gave an immediate wide smile, her focus on the baby against his chest. "Come on in," Cal moved aside. The door swung back of its own accord. Emily turned to Cal. "This is your big sista," he introduced. "Big sista, little brutha. Still nameless."

"He's so small!" Emily noted. "And cute."

Cal smiled. Once you got past the cone head look, the little guy was very cute. Emily looked up at Cal's face with a smile. It faded quickly. "Geeze Dad, what happened to you?" She was suddenly concerned.

"Would you believe me if I said I was just tired?" Cal tried to brush off his black eyes. He had forgotten about them.  
"No," she was indignant.

"Then, it's a long story, and I'll tell you all about it late-a."

Emily gave a little huff and move around him. She gave the flowers to Gillian in congratulations. Gillian thanked her warmly. The baby gave a very wet sounding burp. Both women turned to Cal. "That was it," he told the baby. "Nice one!" He wiped away some stray milk. The baby's face relaxed. "Wanna hold?" He looked up at his daughter. She looked unsure. "He's goin' to sleep. Promise he won't cry."

"Ok sure," Emily agreed. Cal indicated she should take a seat in the chair beside the bed and once she was settled passed the baby over, showing her how to support his neck correctly. Cal moved around the bed so he was facing the room. He slipped his hand absently into Gillian's. "Definitely very cute," Emily noted. She looked up, gave the new parents a smile.

"I'm gonna book you in now for some serious babysittin'," Cal told her. Emily smiled. "What do you reckon Gill? I think around the time he's teethin', the entire terrible twos and the awkward, rebellious, obnoxious teenage years."

Gillian laughed. "Sounds good."

Emily shot Cal a glare.

"Shh," Cal cut her off before she could even think of any retaliation. "You don't want to wake him up," he teased. "Then they're a real nightmare."

**PJ**

Cal's shoulder ached. But he wasn't going to tell Gillian that. The night in the chair had been just short of pure torture for the already flimsy muscles. It was hard to tell which was lighter, the overnight bags or their son in his car seat. Cal guessed the baby and the car seat, so he carried that inside while Gillian brought their bags in. Cal put the baby on the couch. He slept on. He was good at sleeping. Cal hoped he would keep it up for a few days so his father could catch up on some slumber.

They stood together watching the baby for a few seconds. Cal remembered this from when Emily had come home for the first time. It was: now what do we do?

"I reckon you've got time for a showa before he needs a feed," Cal told Gillian softly.

"Do I smell?"

"Nope. Just thought you might appreciate a hot showa."

"Or a cold showa," Gillian countered, her voice light. It was summer after all, warm, but not boiling hot. "A shower would be great." She seemed to hesitate.

"It's all right," Cal told her. "I've got him."

She trailed from the room slowly.

"You and I can have some Daddy time," Cal told the baby. He had been hanging out for it for two days of the hospital, doctors, nurses and zero privacy. He picked up the car seat and moved to the bedroom. Gillian was in the process of picking out clean clothes. She eyed him up as he came in. Cal put the car seat down on the mattress and then reached for the overnight bags, wordlessly indicating he was going to unpack them. Gillian disappeared into the bathroom and once she was out of sight, and the sound of the shower came through the door, Cal picked his son up out of his restraints. He settled the warm body into the crook of his elbow.

Then Cal went about filling up the washing machine with dirty clothes and timing it to go on in half an hour when Gillian would be out of the shower. One handed took a little longer. It didn't matter. He had all the time in the world right now. He could hear Gillian in the bathroom and the slight snuffles of his sleeping son. Cal checked there was food to make lunch. They might have to get something in for dinner. Finally, he went to the baby's room. On the walls were the typical cutesy baby animals and clouds on a sky blue painted background. Crib in the corner, changing table against the wall, dresser under the window. A small bookshelf already held teddy bears and other soft toys. Clothes were folded, nappies and wipes and other supplies ready for use. Cal was just double checking.

"This is your room," Cal told his son as he looked around it. As he turned for the door again the small photos on the wall caught his attention. Gillian had framed a picture of her parents, a picture of Cal's parents, a picture of Emily and Cal and one of Cal and herself. Then she had mounted them on the wall, eye height, evenly spaced. It struck Cal hard that neither of his parents were going to meet the son he had just brought into the world.

Back in the bedroom, Gillian was towelling off. Her stomach was back to the five month mark but her breasts were bigger than they'd ever been. Her milk was coming in and it would take time for her body to adjust to how much the baby was actually going to need. Cal propped himself up against the back of the bed and shifted the baby boy to his chest while he watched Gillian get dressed. "Betta?"

"Yes."

"Hungry?"

"Yeah," Gillian agreed.

"Lunch. Then maybe a nap?"

"Sounds good."

"I thought of a name."

Gillian raised her eyebrows at him, a silent 'let's hear it'.

"Lewis."

"Where did you get that from?"

Cal watched her face carefully. It was harder from across the room. But she didn't seem completely opposed to the idea. "Afta my Mum."

Gillian stopped moving. Now she watched him intently, standing in her underwear.

"She neva got to meet eitha of my kids."

Gillian nodded. "I like Lewis."


	30. Chapter 30

Gillian had found she could wake a half instant before Lewis started crying. Even at three a.m. she would wake, a little confused, dreading that it was dark and then the baby would start crying and she would remember everything; her body responding to his call, the thrill of hearing her son, the ache of her breasts desperate to comfort him. And then Cal would get up before she could move and retrieve him from the crib at the end of the bed. They had argued over moving the crib into their room. Cal wanted Lewis close, so they could hear him breathing in the night. Gillian tried to argue that having him in the room was a bad habit for all parties involved. Cal had raised his voice and Gillian had quickly caved. A part of her was grateful for not having to move around the house in the dark hours of the morning. Another part of her wanted to keep the peace; there was something in Cal that she didn't want to poke with a stick. She hoped it was because he was tired. She hoped it had nothing to do with Brandon Mitchell. Cal had gone to his arraignment. He refused to let Gillian accompany him, or even talk him out of going himself.

Gillian heard the first grizzle of Lewis announcing he was awake and hungry. The sun was greying the room. She sat up, feeling groggy and the familiar wish for more sleep. Cal didn't stir from his side of the bed. Gillian ran a hand through her hair, re-orientated herself, turned around to slip off the mattress. Lewis's cries were getting louder as she bent down to pick him up. Her breasts were heavy, bordering on uncomfortable. Lewis calmed down almost immediately at her touch. Gillian hugged his tiny but warm body to her chest as she scuffed her way, with bleary eyes and sleepy limbs, to the bedroom door. Cal still hadn't stirred. Good. He needed to sleep. And she needed to learn to do this on her own.

Gillian went to Lewis's room and set up to feed in the comfy chair. As she prepared Lewis, and then herself, she felt a pang of nerves. She had thought breastfeeding would be a completely natural experience. The books warned her it wasn't for every new mom. She was somewhere in-between those. It hadn't been easy. It still wasn't. Lewis wasn't very good at opening his mouth wide enough which meant he didn't get enough nipple, which meant he wouldn't feed properly. Cal, trying to be supportive, drove Gillian up the wall with his unwavering calmness. He told her to relax. The books told her to relax. She had hoped after two days both she and Lewis would have gotten better at it.

Lewis had started crying again. Gillian had him in the perfect position, just like the books said, tucked under her right arm, face right in front of her breast. Except Lewis wouldn't co-operate and the more he cried and got worked up the more Gillian got worked up until she felt like crying. Then she was aware of a figure in the door way. Cal shuffled in in his boxers and a t-shirt, picking something out of his eye. "Mornin'," he greeted in a mumble.

Gillian felt a burn of frustration in her throat. She didn't answer him.

"May I?" Cal asked coming to a stop in front of her. He meant Lewis.

"Sure," Gillian responded tersely, wanting to sound like she wasn't bothered but failing. Why the fuck not?

Cal leaned down and picked Lewis up carefully, one large hand supporting the back of his neck. "What's goin' on with you?" He talked to the baby. He put him down on the changing table and started popping open the snaps of his outfit. Cal undressed him completely and changed his nappy.

"I thought he was hungry," Gillian noted hollowly, her breasts tingling, still begging. How was it she was getting this so wrong?

"He is. But now he doesn't know what's goin' on. We can start ova." Cal cleaned around the umbilical cord, a practised routine. Gillian was reminded of him doing the exact same thing when she had Sophie.

Gillian watched him enviously. "Why are you so good with him?"

Cal turned surprised. "I'm just as good as you are."

"No, you're better," Gillian's voice was tight. The burning sensation was in the back of her throat again. She wanted to bawl just like Lewis.

Cal turned with Lewis in his arms, upright and naked. He came over. "Nope. I'm just more relaxed."

"If you tell me to relax one more time, I'm going to throw something at you."

"All right," Cal noted. "He just needed a distraction." He lowered Lewis back into the feeding position. He was much more alert, his mouth searching around for her nipple. "You can do it," he told her, leaning over her to watch.

"_I _need a distraction," Gillian told Cal, feeling emotional and frustrated and a little angry and smothered with him so close.

Cal looked at her face. In the grey of dawn he could see her pleading. "All right," he sighed, stepped back. "I've got a good one for you."

Gillian watched him sit on the floor, leaning his back against the dresser drawers. He looked over at her without moving his head. "I went to see a shrink."

"What?" Gillian asked surprised. She wondered if she had misheard.

"You asked what had changed for me, I went to see a shrink."

"What for?"

"You said you thought I was depressed."

Gillian was dumbfounded. He was talking about way back then!? That was years ago. She wondered if he was just spinning her a line. "You wouldn't lie to me about his would you?"

"Nope."

"When did you go?"

Cal indicated Lewis had his mouth wide open. Gillian spotted the opening and went for it. Lewis latched on tightly the first time and Gillian felt the tingling 'dropping' sensation as milk started to flow. She turned back to Cal. He was watching her with half closed eyes. "When was this?" She asked again.

"That would be a couple of years ago now." God, had it really been that long? It had gone by so fast. All of it.

"A couple of years ago!" Gillian exclaimed softly lest she disturb her son and have to start over. She sat and thought for half a minute. "I don't know whether to be mad at you for not telling me, or pleased that you got help, or flattered that you actually listened to me."

"I vote for pleased and flattered." Cal paused. "Don't be mad."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm tellin' you now."

"Why didn't you tell me then?" Her voice had a low accusation.

"I didn't know what to make of it. I wanted to figa it out on my own."

Gillian took a steadying breath. "I'm not mad. I _am_ pleased you got help if you needed it. And I _am_ flattered that you listened to me."

"For once," Cal quipped with a slight grin.

Gillian smiled despite herself. "So..." She paused. "Are you going to tell me about it?"

"What's to tell?"

She wanted to pry. What had they discussed? Was she right? Instead, because he clearly wanted some semblance of privacy on the subject, she asked: "How long did you go for? Are you still going?"

"I went for a few months at a time, a couple of times."

"So you were depressed?"

Yep, way to not pry.

"Doc seemed to think so."

"And it helped?" She knew it had helped. He had been so different. So wonderful. She knew in the back of her mind it couldn't have been a completely spontaneous change.

"What do you think?"

"Only you can tell how you feel inside," Gillian told him gently.

"Hmm," Cal agreed. "I'd say it worked a treat." He got up. "You gonna be all right?"

Gillian nodded. She reached out her spare hand to him. Cal took it. She gave his fingers a squeeze. "Thanks."

Cal leaned down and kissed her forehead. "You'll be all right." He left the room, pulling the door behind him slightly.

Gillian sat and watched her son's peaceful features. His head had rounded out again, the puffiness of his eyes was gone. He had the cherub pink cheeks of a new born. He was beautiful. And hers. She had missed this with Sophie; this exact moment of bonding, mother and son. Gillian looked up at the photos on the wall. Her parents together. Cal and Emily. Lewis' parents together. And Cal's parents. Gillian studied the image of Louise. The sadness was there in her eyes. Gillian couldn't imagine leaving Lewis now. Even though it was hard. And she knew Cal felt the same way. Gillian wondered what kind of hell that woman had experience that had ended her life so shortly. She wondered what kind of hell Cal experienced that she didn't know about.

**PJ**

"Cal?" Gillian called from her seat in the comfy chair. Lewis had finished feeding. She could get up easily without assistance. But... something held her back. A new leaf she suspected; a reciprocation. The bedroom door pushed open a minute later. Cal was dressed now, jeans and a clean shirt.

"Yeah luv?"

"Finished," she told him, inviting him to get involved again after telling him to proverbially piss off half an hour before. Before he had confessed that was. Now she was trying to make amends. Cal came further into the room. "Can you take him?"

Cal reached down and scooped their son up. He shifted him upright and spread a cloth over his shoulder to catch any baby badges Lewis felt like leaving. Gillian watched him. Probably a little too closely; thoughts of depression on her mind. She got up while Cal paced the room slightly, rubbing Lewis's back. Lewis belched up a mouthful of milk on the first attempt and then went quiet. He was about to go back to sleep. Gillian thought about going back to sleep too but realised she felt more alert than she had in days. Cal wiped away the baby's sick and reached for a clean blanket to swaddle him in while he napped again.

"Where did this pink blanket come from?" He asked absently.

"It was Sophie's," Gillian supplied a little self-consciously. "I only ever kept a few things of hers." And she had only dared to bring those things out for Lewis yesterday.

Cal took it wordlessly and wrapped their son up in it. "Pink's his colour."

Gillian smiled at the quip. "Oh hey, I almost forgot. Happy father's day."

Cal gave her a slight smile. "Thanks luv."

"I haven't organised anything for you. Sorry."

"I don't need anythin' but what I've got right here. Perfect fartha's day gift: a son."

For the first time in days, possibly weeks, Gillian felt like everything was coming together.


	31. Chapter 31

Cal waited to feel normal again. It had been a month since he had been kept captive. Lewis was two weeks old. But normal didn't seem to be coming back. He expected the physical aspects of his life to be different; he got up at three in the morning to help feed his son, and there was always a ton of washing to do and shopping for nappies; he was perpetually exhausted. But in his heart, in his head, he was still back at the Mitchell farm. He was always expecting the next blow. He didn't want to get blindsided again. His doctor told him his shoulder had healed nicely, but Cal felt its weakness. Lewis's doctor told them he was doing great, but that damage from the asphyxia at his birth, if there was any, would manifest later during his developmental years. And Cal felt that blow every time he looked at his tiny, perfect son.

They were paranoid about him breathing. The paediatrician had given them explicit instructions to check his breathing while he slept. Babies had all kinds of trouble with stopping and starting and bad circulation. So if they went to check on Lewis and he wasn't breathing, they should rub his chest to start him up again. And if he didn't start up again, they should call an ambulance, start baby CPR. If they went to check on him and he was blue, they should pick him up. If he didn't go pink again, as his circulation improved, they should call an ambulance, start baby CPR.

Cal was tired. He was scared, paranoid, worn down. He was pulling away again. Gillian could feel it. And when he did that she held on more tightly. She had relaxed into motherhood. She had feeds down pat now. She and Lewis were bonding. Cal was glad for that. They had their relationship worked out in regards to their son; the sharing of duties and supporting each other when it came to him. But when it came to each other, without Lewis around, everything had been flipped on its axis. Cal thought about that dream constantly. It had been so poignant it had stuck in his brain. He had found Gillian's books, double checked the meaning. Death equalled change. It was the same of the death card in the Taro deck. The loss was about his father but that had simply been the start of a catalyst of events of change.

Cal was acting like an ass. He was having one of those train wreck instances. He was watching everything shatter around him, like a million plates blowing to pieces where he stood in the kitchen. And he couldn't stop it. He was wheedling, niggling at Gillian until she snapped. Her reserves of patience were huge now, thanks to learning to deal with a crying baby, so he had been digging for a while. A few days actually. Consciously he knew it was the wrong thing to do, especially to Gillian, but subconsciously, he wanted to feel the comfort of anger. He needed an excuse to explode. And who better to blow up at than the one person he trusted in the entire world not to hold it against him?

Gillian turned defiantly to the kitchen sink. With her back to him, he was easier to ignore. Or at least try to. At least he couldn't read her face. Cal didn't need a turned back to end a conversation. She would have to leave the room; probably the house to be safe. So maybe she was willing to play along with him for a minute.

"What's wrong?" Cal asked faking innocence.

"Nothing," Gillian told him tersely.

"Now don't do that!" Cal told her sharply. "We've neva done that. Don't start now!" Screw that death dream about change. If this was the change, he didn't want it. No regrets about having a baby. But regrets about how he had changed. Or changed back. Maybe it was simply that _Cal_ had shifted on his axis. Maybe he had righted himself again and the last few years had been the abnormality.

Gillian turned to him again, tears on her red cheeks, her nose pink with the effort of not crying. That look, right there, kicked Cal in the guts. "Why are we even fighting?" She asked imploringly.

Cal couldn't actually remember what had set it off. But he had done something he knew would wind her up so that she would bitch at him first. That way, he could blame this argument on her. He already had it planned. He would accuse her of being emotional, because of the baby and the hormones and being tired. But he suddenly felt deflated. He couldn't do it. Gillian stared at him waiting for the answer. What Cal wanted to do was keep on yelling. What he did was apologise quickly and drop the subject.

What Cal wanted was to be in control of his own life again.

**PJ**

Cal stood over his wife, watching her sleep. He had a bag packed and Lewis in his car seat ready to go. But the peaceful expression on Gillian's face had stopped him up short for a minute. He didn't want to go but he knew he had to. It was the best thing he could do for her. And it was with her in mind that he was even going. It was for him, but it was also for her. He was having one of those moments where he couldn't believe a woman like her would even think about loving a guy like him. She deserved nothing but the best. She had never been anything but warm and gracious, sweet and kind and so loving. Cal wanted to be the best for her. And that, he reminded himself, was exactly why he was going. He leaned down and gently shook her shoulder. "Gill," he whispered. "I'm goin' out for a bit. I'm takin' Lewis with me."

"Hmm?" Her eyes cracked open a slit.

"Go back to sleep," he told her in a low voice, hoping she could actually hear him and that it would sink in and that she wouldn't wake up half an hour later and freak out because Lewis was gone.

It was probably good timing really that he was going now. He was back at work on Monday and while he didn't care too much what his staff thought of him, he didn't want to be in a bad space. It was harder to concentrate on his work if he was thinking about how miserable his life was. He hoped Gillian would be all right at home with Lewis by herself. He figured she would be, or she would ring him if she needed help. She had always been good at asking for help. Funny that Cal wasn't. And while those thoughts rolled around in his head Cal had arrived.

With the baby bag over one shoulder and Lewis's car seat in his right hand Cal ignored the surprised expression of the receptionist. She asked him to take a seat for a second and called through to the next office. Doctor Wu appeared a half minute later. Cal was the first appointment of the day, precisely so he wouldn't have to wait.

"Come on through," Doctor Wu offered, giving the sleeping Lewis a hesitant expression.

"He's just been fed so he's gonna be out of it for a while," Cal explained as he put Lewis down in one of the armchairs. In fact, Cal was hoping he would get through the session and be home again before Lewis even woke up. He dumped the baby bag on the floor and moved to the couch as Doctor Wu grabbed his notepad and Cal's file and sat in the other armchair opposite.

"So how have you been?" Doctor Wu began. It was an inane question practising psychologists asked but it grated under Cal's skin to rub a fresh wound.

"You watch the news?" He countered.

Doctor Wu looked slightly embarrassed. That was a 'yes'.

"Then I take it you know all about Brandon Mitchell."

Because it had got out to the media eventually and that had been another hellish nightmare to try and dodge.

"Is that why you're here?"

Another thing: psychologists always asked questions without answering them. They wanted the patient to figure out what the answers were. That also grated under Cal's skin. He was a quick fix kind of guy.

"Partly. I've lost my way."

"Tell me about it."

Cal gave a shrug. "There's nothin' to tell. I just need to sort it out."

"Have you tried talking to your wife?"

"She just had a baby."

Doctor Wu glanced at Lewis. "Does that mean she won't listen to you?"

"No it means she kinda has otha things on her mind right now," Cal shot back as if it were obvious.

"And you don't want to burden her?"

Pow. Didn't see that one coming.

"Nope," Cal agreed.

"You told me another time you were here that you don't want to burden her. Do you feel like you are a burden?"

Cal had a nasty feeling Doctor Wu was going to link that train of thought back to his deceased mother. He waved his hand away. "No. Not a burden. But my problems are my problems. They're not brought on by my mutha issues and they're not brought on by anythin' else but a desire to make my wife's life a little easia while she looks afta our son." Cal watched the frustration pass over Wu's face. It must be hard when the man you were trying to help was smarter than yourself. It would be like trying to teach a duck to swim. Or an old dog new tricks! Cal was suddenly amused by the analogy. Doctor Wu looked surprised.

"Here it is," Cal decided to cooperate. Not because the sight of Doctor Wu struggling was hard to watch, but because he had come for help. His choice to be there. No one was forcing him. "My wife finally gets pregnant and everythin's good. Then Brandon bloody Mitchell comes along and just about ruins everythin'."

Doctor Wu sat still and listened. He didn't have to voice his '_and?_' prompt.

"Normally, when I self destruct, it's me that's doin' the destructin'," Cal tested.

"And this time it was completely out of your control?" Doctor Wu finished. Cal nodded. "I take it, it wasn't easy for you to conceive?"

Cal shook his head. "Two cycles of IVF."

"So you've gone from a very controlled situation, something you wanted greatly, to something very uncontrolled, something you certainly didn't want."

"That seems to sum it up yeah."

Doctor Wu looked thoughtful. "You're not like my other patients. For one, you have a doctorate in psychology. For another, you can see every time I try to boost you up with half truths and have no qualms about calling me on it. Plus, you're twice my age."

"I'm not sure if you're tryin' to make me feel betta or if I should be insulted."

Doctor Wu gave a slightly amused smile. Cal waited for him to get to the point. "So you're probably my biggest challenge."

"Consida me a project do you?" Cal teased lightly. He was already feeling worlds better just talking to someone else, someone who wasn't involved. Sorry Gillian, but she just hadn't cut it on this one. Explaining it to someone else forced Cal to whittle away all the crap to get to the core of it. Gillian had a decade plus of Cal's history to contend with. Doctor Wu had nothing but what he knew of Cal from a handful of one hour sessions. Quite a different perspective.

"So I'll save leading you through the maze by the hand and just show you the short cut." He paused. "Because I think you would appreciate that."

"I would," Cal agreed. That was why he liked Doctor Wu. Straight to the point.

"And I think you will listen."

"All ears."

"Being happy is a choice."

"Yeah," Cal agreed glumly. How he hated taking advice from other people. Worse when it was strangers. How long had it taken him to finally listen to and follow Gillian's advice? But the doctor was right. It was easy to be sad, angry, depressed. Those were like falling down the rabbit hole, letting gravity kick in and guide him along the way. It was climbing back up that was hard. And it was a choice. Cal could sit down there and stew and wallow and let it starve him to death. Or he could get up, fight back, climb to the top and enjoy the sunshine. Gillian would be there waiting for him. Was that not incentive enough? Had he not done it before?

"So. Do you need me to keep going?" Doctor Wu asked.

"Nope. I get it." Cal paused. "I have a question though."

"Go ahead," Doctor Wu indicated the floor in front of them.

"How do I get Brandon bloody Mitchell out of my head? He's been in my life for ova a month. I have to go to the court dates and sit as a witness. I can't just ignore him."

"I don't think ignoring him would get you anywhere. Ignoring a problem only compounds it. Ignorance only works if you truly embrace being in the dark. And I don't think you're the kind of guy who can compartmentalise."

Cal felt the insult in that even though it wasn't intended. He told himself not to get mad. And he told himself not to retaliate. He could shut Doctor Wu down in fifteen seconds flat but that would defy the point of being there.

"You seem to think the Mitchell affair was personal against you."

"It bloody was!" Cal huffed.

"Because?" Doctor Wu prompted.

Cal felt his nostrils flare in anger. "It was pure revenge. The fucka abducted me outside my own home and took me to some shit hole in bloody Delaware and beat the snot out of me for four days! I think that's bloody personal!"

"What did you do to him?"  
"Are you gonna tell me some BS about an eye for an eye? Cos I've done some shitty things in my life that would certainly warrant that. But not from Mitchell."

"I was just wondering if he could justify it in his mind."

Cal waved a hand dismissively. "I'm sure he can," he shot Doctor Wu a steely gaze. "Every nut job can justify their actions to themselves."

"Can you justify whatever it was that you did to Mitchell?"

"Yes," Cal answered without hesitation. He was still certain about the brother. He had even gone over the case file to be sure. "Maybe not what happened to him aftaward."

"And that's what you're having a hard time with?"

"No, what I'm havin' a hard time is havin' jungle justice dealt out to me by some wanka because of what I do."

The silence in the room pressed on Cal's ears. He could hear his own words reverberating off the wall to come back at him. Realisation struck a cold note.

Doctor Wu waited for him to keep talking. Cal didn't know what to say. He wasn't even sure his voice would work right at that moment.

'_Has it come down to this_?' He asked himself. Had his world shifted so much that he would even consider...

"Our time is up," Doctor Wu spoken gently. "Will you be ok? I can move my next appointment back."

"I'm all right," Cal responded numbly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep," Cal got up.

"Make another appointment on your way out."

"I don't need anutha one."

"I really think we should get into this more," Doctor Wu followed him to his feet.

Cal reached for the baby bag and its wealth of supplies. "Nope. I've got it sorted now." He slung the bag over his shoulder. All he really needed was a speech to rally the troops. He had gotten it and a very clear decisive next move. He turned to Wu and offered his hand. "But thanks doc, once again."

Doctor Wu's hand was smooth; the hand of a man who spent his days in an office. Cal's hands were scarred and rough. They shook. Doctor Wu told him to come by any time if he needed to. Cal picked up Lewis on his way out.

**PJ**

"Gill," Cal shook her shoulder gently again. He had been gone an hour and a half and she was still asleep when he got back. He wasn't surprised. She was knackered.

"Hmm?"

Cal had put the sleeping Lewis in his crib. Now he leaned over his wife again and told her to move over while he kicked his shoes off.

"You climb over," Gillian mumbled at him.

Cal was already gently pushing her shoulder back to make space for him. "Come on," he coaxed. "Move ova." He lifted the blankets. Lewis would be awake soon. But Cal didn't need a lot of time to make it right with his wife again.

Gillian shifted her hips back, then her torso followed, making a narrow space for Cal on the edge of the mattress. Cal slipped into the warm space fully dressed. He put his arm around his wife, pressing her against his chest tightly. "I'm sorry luv," he whispered against her hair. "I'm sorry."

Cal didn't have to explain why he was sorry. Gillian knew. He felt different. This was the 'new' Cal back again. Her heart skipped a funny beat and she held on to him a little tighter, daring to hope that he might be back for good. He was too close for her to look at him so she kept her eyes closed and felt the warmth coming from his body. Not a physical warmth, his clothes were cooler compared to the blankets; but a relaxing of his muscles, a tenderness in his hands. She turned her body into him, feeling the length of his torso and legs against hers comforting and familiar and safe again.

Gillian was drawn to Cal like a magnet. But only when he switched that magnet on. Like right now. She couldn't have pushed him away if she had tried. She risked getting her heart broken. She knew that before they had even started. A year of marriage wasn't going to change it; not even two. Maybe three. When things were good, by god they were good. And when they were bad she scared herself awake at night. No matter how well she knew Cal, she would never really know him. There would always be something. But that was the risk she took. He was her addiction. She liked to think she had risen above the tendencies of her heritage: her father's addictive personality. But maybe she hadn't. She felt Cal's hands tighten on her back and hoped he would prove her wrong. She didn't want to have to face the fact that maybe she had chosen poorly again. If they ended, she might have been able to walk away and nurse her heart back to health. But she would never have gotten over him. She had tried that once before. And now that they had Lewis, they would always be bound together. Always. No matter what happened.

"Where did you go?" She asked in a murmur.

"Away for a little while," Cal answered softly. "But I'm back now."

Gillian had meant that morning, literally, but she realised his answer solved another question she hadn't even dared to ask yet. She hugged him tighter still and fought the urge to cry. No more crying. She was tired of it. She nuzzled her face into his neck, feeling how hot his skin was against her forehead. "Lewis?"

"Asleep."

"Hmm," Gillian sighed contently. She realised she was uncomfortable. "Your belt is digging in to me."

"I'm not wearin' one."

"Oh."

"Had an impure thought. Sorry."

"_Ohhh_," Gillian giggled. The space under the covers was suddenly scorching hot. She threw them away and turned on to her back. She ran her hand through Cal's hair, mussing it up in the front. He looked sexy like that. He shifted so he was propped up on his elbow. He gave her a boyish grin. And that look in his eye was back. Adoration and pure love. It made Gillian's stomach feel funny.

"I'm lookin' forward to gettin' my hands on you again."

"Oh god, don't!" Gillian groaned. "We're not even half way!"


	32. Chapter 32

"What's this?"

'_Uh oh_,' was Cal's first thought. "Uh, it looks like a birth certificate," Cal squinted at the paper as Gillian came closer. The font was small and he didn't have his glasses on. "It's Lewis's."

"And what does it say?" Gillian held it closer to his face, so it was within reading distance.

"Uh, mutha: Gillian An..."

"This part," Gillian cut him off. She pointed to the line.

"It says: Lewis Guy Hope Lightman."

"Yeah," Gillian nodded. "When I asked you to fill out the forms I didn't think you were going to add an extra name."

Cal checked her face to see if she was as mad as her tone sounded. She wasn't. Good, he could be cheeky. "I thought it suited him."

"A girl's name?" Gillian raised both eyebrows in question as she sat in a chair opposite his desk.

"Hope isn't a girl's name."

"Actually it is." She crossed one leg over the other.

"Well now he has a boy's version of a girl's name, a boy's name _and_ a girl's name."

Gillian narrowed her eyes at him slightly.

"I'm glad you're here," Cal cut her off. "I wanna talk to you about somthin'."

"Was it to give me a heads up about adding an extra name to our son's birth certificate?" Gillian asked innocently.

"Actually no," Cal said as if it were a surprise to him too.

"Then what is it?"

"Where's Lewis?"

"Loker's drooling over him," Gillian waved her hand absently.

Cal leaned back in his chair. "I cancelled our contract with the FBI."

"You did what?" Gillian asked surprised.

"It was up for renewal so I just didn't renew it," Cal explained. "We're not out any money."

"We needed that money."

"No, we don't," Cal countered. "We're doin' all right."

"Because of that money."

"I can't do it anymore," Cal tried to bring them back on focus. He did have a reason for ending that deal.

Gillian gave a slight frown. Cal saw her take a quick steadying breath. "I don't understand."

"I'm tired of the drug busts, the missin' persons, the political assassinations."

"But I thought you wanted to help people."

"I do. But I think we've got caught up in helpin' the wrong people."

"You think the FBI are the wrong people?" Gillian's eyebrows were up again in question and a little amusement.

"Not necessarily. I just want to do somethin' different now," Cal tried changing tact. "Life's a journey right? We've been doin' this for ova ten years."

"I'm happy doing what we do."

"You're happy exposin' the drug dealas and murdera's and kiddie killas to our life?"

Gillian's face said 'no'.

"Me eitha. Things change. Things _have_ changed."

Gillian nodded.

"We can do somethin' else. I'm not talkin' about disbandin' the Lightman Group. I'm talkin' about a new direction."

"To where?'

Cal gave a shrug, "Who knows?"

Gillian gave him a suspicious expression. "Are you being optimistic again?"

"Bloody well sounds like it!"

Gillian laughed. "Ok. Something different. You know I'm with you whatever we do."

Cal gave a nod, a warm smile. "I know that yeah."

"How about teaching?"

Cal laughed. "There is no way in hell you're gonna get me to teach."

"It was just a suggestion."

"Can you imagine it?" Cal continued highly amused.

"You'd probably cut more class than your students."

"Exactly."

Gillian laughed now. "Well then, what are you going to do? Your gift, your science, is too good to be kept to yourself. Remember what you told Ria? It belongs to the world now. You have a duty to share."

"How'd you hear about that?"

"I have my sources," Gillian responded mysteriously.

"Ria told you," Cal guessed. He could see the 'yes' on her face.

"Don't do that," Gillian huffed at him. "But yes, she told me."

"Didn't realise you two were so close."

Gillian tried not to smile. "In the beginning, when she first got here, she needed a bit of gentle reassurance that she hadn't made a mistake and that your bark really was worse than your bite."

Cal gave her a sudden smirk. "I do like bitin'."

Gillian's cheeks went red with embarrassment. "Shush," she forced a frown.

**PJ**

Cal brushed a hand along the back of Gillian's neck. "Hhm?" She responded almost immediately. "I'm asleep."

"No you're not," Cal countered. They had only just put the light out. Gillian had her back to him. He ran his hand over her bare shoulder and down her arm.

"What are you doing?" Gillian asked him softly.

Cal shifted so he could whisper in her ear. "I miss you."

He felt Gillian shiver. "I miss you too," she said gently.

Cal nuzzled into the back of her neck. "How much longa do we have to wait?"

Gillian sighed. "Three days." Her voice sounded tense.

Cal started placing kisses.

"What are you doing?" She asked him tightly; curious but not annoyed.

"Tryin' to entice you." He kissed behind her ear. "Is it workin'?"

Gillian sighed again. "Cal." She sounded as though she wanted to say something more but stopped after just that. It made her seem indecisive.

"Thought we could take advantage of finally bein' alone," Cal murmured near her ear. Lewis had been relocated to his own bedroom now he was sleeping through the night. Well, sort of. His last feed was late and he woke up early still but it meant they got a solid block of sleep in the night now.

Gillian turned her head slightly to catch Cal's mouth. Her kiss was firm. But there seemed to be a sense of finality to it. "I'm really tired."

"Me too." Cal's hand snaked over her waist across to the gap where her diaphragm sat. Gillian turned a little more and let him kiss her again. Cal made sure it was a little deeper, a little warmer. He definitely felt her respond this time. He dared to shift his hand a little higher and took it as a good sign when she didn't bat his hand away.

"Your breasts are magnificent," he murmured against her mouth, feeling her breath hot against his lips.

Gillian giggled in the back of her throat. "Make the most of them while you can."

"All right then," Cal answered, blatantly shifting his hand. Gillian laughed. Cal kissed the hollow of her throat where he could feel her blood pulsing. He was pleased to find it was moving rapidly. He kissed her one more time.

"Cal," Gillian complained. "We should really go to sleep. It's," she lifted her head to check the clock. "Almost midnight."

"Right," Cal grunted in acknowledgement. He started to pull away from her and noted how she turned with him, so they were lying on their sides facing each other. Cal dared to kiss her again. When he pulled away Gillian kissed him. She unfurled her arms, letting one hand run up his bare arm to caress the back of his neck.

"Cal," Gillian whispered his name and it sent a little thrill through him. "I do miss you."

"I miss you too darlin'."

Gillian pressed herself closer against him. "Damn it Cal I'm trying to go to sleep." She kissed him again.

Cal smirked. "Well you can roll ova and ignore me."

"If it were that easy I would." They kissed again. "And stop smirking."

Cal laughed. He had really missed her. Not just in a physical way. Although right now he was _really_ missing that. He slipped a hand down over her stomach. Gillian's fingers caught his wrist. "Stop," she breathed at him.

"Stop? I'm just gettin' started," Cal whispered back.

"No, stop." Gillian pulled away from him, her grip still firm on his wrist. Cal could hear her breathing heavily. "I want to wait."

"What for? The right guy? Marriage?"

Gillian rested her head against his shoulder for a second. "No," she groaned. "We've held out this long. It's only a few more days. I thought it might be romantic to actually have a nice evening together. Make it special."

"Romance and all that?"

"Yes."

"I wasn't hopin' for a shag tonight. Just thought we could re-acquaint," Cal shifted his lips against her throat again. Sensing a slackening in her grip, he shifted his hand down a little further. It had been five and a half weeks since Lewis had been born after all; and the last time they had had sex had been the week before he was born. That was a very long time to go without sex, especially when they had been too tired most of the time to do anything more than fall into bed and straight to sleep. Plus there had been quite a few nights of tension from sniping at each other, which was totally Cal's fault but still... not a lot of fooling around had been going on. Hardly any. Basically, none at all.

Gillian moved her hand and pressed it against Cal's shoulder, where her head had been a moment before. Cal allowed himself to be moved onto his back, his hand falling away from her. Gillian leaned over him and close into his ear. "Just think about the fun we could have if we actually planned this." She nuzzled his earlobe. "We can have early nights for days so we can prepare to stay up late on the weekend. We can get Lewis to sleep and then fool around _all_ night," she whispered. "Then we can sleep in all day to recover."

Cal grinned to himself in the dark.

"Anticipation is half the fun."

Cal groaned. "Anticipation might kill me."

Gillian trailed kisses along his jaw, scratchy from two day's growth of beard. "You think I don't want you just as badly?"

"You're makin' it worse!" Cal complained with another growl. But he did keep his hands to himself.

Gillian giggled. She planted a firm kiss on his cheek and pulled back. He turned his head to look at her in the darkness. No facial features, no muscle contractions, just voice and a general outline. "For me?"

"Argh!"

"Please?"

"Sounds delightful. In the meantime, I might have to have some alone time in the showa tomorrow mornin'." Cal felt a hand suddenly against his groin. It made him flinch. He didn't need any more encouragement in that department. He pulled her hand away. "Stop before I embarrass myself."

"I can help," Gillian told him sweetly.

"Thanks. But I'll decline. I've already waited six weeks."

"Six weeks, three days."

"Have you been keepin' count?" Cal loaded his voice with shock.

"No," Gillian shifted onto her back again.

"I think you have," Cal countered. "I love that you have."

"Would you believe me if I said I knew because I've been keeping track of exactly how old Lewis is?"

"No."

"Good, because I'd be lying."

**PJ**

Cal's phone rang. It rang and rang and rang and he ignored it. He knew who it was without having to look at the caller ID. Said person had already left five messages today with Heidi that Cal had absolutely no intention of returning. He probably should have just turned his phone off; but what if Gillian needed to call him? He could have sent the call straight to voicemail; but that was just a bit too obvious that he was avoiding answering it.

"That might have been important," Gillian noted coming into his office. She had a baby bag slung over her shoulder and Lewis in his car seat in her right hand. Cal sprung up from his desk to relieve her of the car seat halfway across the room. He put Lewis down on the low table by the couches. Lewis was awake, alert, his arms waving erratically. He smiled and Cal, pleased, even though the smile was involuntary, leaned in to rub his cheek and make silly baby noises. Gillian dumped the baby bag next to him. "The call?" She prompted turning to Cal.

"It was Reynolds," Cal straightened up to answer her. She hated it when he played with Lewis while she was trying to talk to him. She knew he wasn't really listening then.

"He's been calling me too."

Cal waved a hand to dismiss the subject. "Otha more important things to talk about luv. What did the docta say?"

"Lewis is fine. Gaining weight like he should be. Good feeding habits. Good sleeping cycle. His eyes and ears check was fine."

"And?" Cal prompted seeing a little flash of fear in her eyes that dumped a load of dread into his heart. "The developmental stuff?"

Gillian looked hesitant. "Still too soon to tell." She looked down at their son. "There's a few things he should be doing that he's not. But that doesn't mean there's brain damage from the birth. It could just mean he's slow to develop in general."

"I wish I had gone with you."

Gillian put a hand on his arm and firmly guided him over to his desk to take a seat in the guest chairs. "We've already neglected this place a lot in the last few months. It was just a doctor's appointment."

Cal wondered why she pushed him out of doing those kinds of things. She didn't like him going to every one of her doctor's appointments either. Especially the little ones. She said it was pointless for them to both be there but he suspected it was easier for her to deal with hearing bad news on her own. "This place still ticks along," Cal countered.

"Which brings up another point quite nicely," Gillian continued her train of thought. "What are we going to do about the FBI contract?"

Cal leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs under hers. "I might have been a bit hasty cancellin' that contract."

"Good because..."

Cal held up a hand to stop her. "I hadn't finished."

"Go ahead," Gillian offered.

"I'm not sorry I cancelled it. That's still what I want to do. But that doesn't mean I won't consult for them. I think maybe I should have renegotiated the terms."

"They clearly still want you."

Cal raised his eyebrows at her in question.

"Reynolds has been calling me too," she reminded him.

"What did you tell him?"

"I said he should talk to you. Because I didn't know what was going on."

Cal nodded.

"I'm serious Cal. I don't know what's going on."

Cal spotted that as his invitation to speak up. "All that stuff with Mitchell." He watched her face clearly for reaction to that name. There was a flicker but he wasn't quite sure what that meant. "And Lewis right on the tail of it. Just kinda put things into a different perspective. Always runnin' off to go undacova with drug dealas and the scum of the city," Cal gave a nonchalant shrug to show he wasn't bothered, when really, he was saying he was. "It leaves a bad taste in my mouth." Cal paused. Gillian waited for him to go on. "You know the reason I signed a contract with the FBI in the first place?"

"I thought it was for the money and to catch the bad guy."

"Yeah it was, but it was also for the protection havin' a gun around here would bring."

Gillian sat back slightly, surprised.

"We were steadily gettin' more and more involved in murdas and drug deals and psychopaths and I wanted someone around here who was licensed to shoot." They both knew Cal had a gun in his safe but if he got it out it would be so much more complicated than if there was an FBI agent around. "The risk outweighed the cost. And now, with you and Lewis the risk is not worth it."

Gillian's expression softened.

"So what I'm sayin' is; I'd be happy to catch the bad guy still, but as for gettin' so involved, I'm not sure I wanna do that anymore. I don't wanna get flown out to Afghanistan or spend three days holed up with men who could use a showa or let wankas like Mitchell have access to my family."

Gillian's face was sombre. She gave a nod. "I'd really like that too." Cal gave her a quick smile, pleased she understood even though he wasn't sure he was explaining it well enough. "So what are you going to tell Reynolds?"

"Just that. I'll consult. But I'm not gonna be at their beck and call anymore."

Gillian nodded. "I think that's a good decision."

Of course, if Cal said he was happy for everything to continue on just as it had been she would have told him she didn't like it, and why, but wouldn't try to stop him. Just like if he _had_ decided to take up smoking again. She wouldn't have liked it and she would tell him why, but she wouldn't have tried to stop him. She would want Cal to come to the conclusion that it wasn't a good idea on his own. She would also banish him from the house so he couldn't transfer any of the toxins to their son; which was why Cal hadn't bothered going down that road again.

Cal gave his 'good boy' grin. "Now what did the docta say about you?"

Gillian gave a slow smile that turned into a grin that made her blue eyes glint. "He said I'm all healed up."

"So we're on for our date tomorrow night?"

Gillian's grin got wider. "Yes. We're on."

Lewis gave a cry from his car seat. Gillian frowned. "He's due for a feed. I should have gone home first."

"Feed him here."

"I actually wanted to get some work done this afternoon too," Gillian mused as she got up, weighing up her options of driving all the way home with a screaming Lewis in the back just to feed him. Lewis gave another long call from his car seat. Or doing it here, so she could stay and get some work done and maybe Cal could take him for a couple of hours.

"So feed him here," Cal suggested again. He closed his office door and then went to retrieve Lewis's blanket from the car seat. Gillian had settled on the couch, a cushion under Lewis to help support his weight. Cal waited until Lewis was feeding and then draped the blanket over Gillian's shoulder and down the front of her chest, to afford her some privacy.

"I forget you have tricks of the trade," she told him.

Cal gave a slight smile. "I'll talk to Reynolds next time he calls," he finished their earlier conversation. "And we can talk about Lewis when we get home."

His office door suddenly opened. "Hey," Eli burst in and then abruptly stopped short when he saw Gillian. "Oh."

Cal was on his feet a second later. "Since when do we not knock on closed doors?"

"We've never knocked on your door," Eli pointed out unsure.

Cal approached rapidly and started shunting him out of the room. "Get out."

"It's just," Eli spluttered, embarrassed, while he backed up. And then he mentioned a name that put a cold squeeze of dread into Cal's stomach. "Zoe's here to see you. Sorry Gillian!" Eli called just as Cal slammed the door shut.

Zoe was standing a few feet away. She had seen everything and stepped back out of sight before Cal had spotted her peering into his office. But Cal saw the hurt on her face before she gave him one of her brilliant 'everything's fine' smiles and quickly deduced what she had witnessed: her ex-husband cuddled up on the couch with his wife while she breastfeed their baby boy.

"What's up Zo?" Cal asked as casually as he could. He gave Eli a shunt by the back of the shoulder to tell him to bugger off.

"I want your help with a case."

"No," Cal told her.

"I know things between us have been strained the last few years."

"I think strained is puttin' it mildly," Cal brushed past her. He knew she would follow so he headed for the exit.

"And I know that's mostly because of me."

"Mostly?" Cal shot over his shoulder.

"But this boy is sixteen. They want to try him as an adult."

Cal hesitated slightly in his step and then kept going.

"He didn't do it Cal. I'm sure. He's just a kid and the DA is coming down on him hard."

"You want me to talk to the DA?" Cal turned abruptly. Damn it, he was listening.

"No. I want you to help me prove he's innocent."

Cal had to look up into her face. Her brown eyes reminded him of their daughter; they were wide in persuasion. "Please Cal. I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important."

Cal hesitated. Thought some more. He'd have to justify it to Gillian as well as himself. "Come with me," he turned around and walked back along the corridor. He saw his office door was closed and remembered Gillian was in there. He went to her office instead, the bright sunny one. He pushed the glass door closed behind them and turned to see Zoe looking around, sizing up her surroundings.

"All right. But here's how it goes. I'll talk to the kid. If he's innocent, if." He paused. "I will help you. And if I think he's not, then I walk away and we leave it at that."

"Ok," Zoe agreed.

"You get all background information for Gillian so she can do a profile; where he went to school, family, medical history. I assume you have friend's statements?"

Zoe nodded quickly.

"I want a note from his piano teacha and his football coach, anythin'."

Zoe nodded again.

"Get his parents in here so Ria can intaview them."

"Ok," Zoe agreed again.

"When can you get the kid here?"

"I can't. He's been charged and held."

Cal sighed. "All right. I'll come down. Set it up."

"Thank you Cal, so much," Zoe loaded her tone with gratitude.

"Call me when you're ready. I have to talk to Gillian."

Zoe gave a firm nod and followed him out of the office. Cal made sure she was heading for the exit before slipping back into his own office. Gillian looked up surprised. She had shifted Lewis to the other side. "So what's going on?"

Cal sat in an arm chair. "Zoe wants my hep with a case."

"No."

"Sixteen year old boy, accused of murda. DA's pushin' to get him tried as an adult."

"Cal."

"I know, I said I wasn't gonna do it anymore. I'm just gonna go talk to the kid, see if he's innocent or not."

"And then?"

"If he's guilty, I'm out."

Gillian quirked an eyebrow. "And if he's not?"

"Then I do an assessment, put togetha a packet, like we do for every case and I get up on the stand and tell the jury all about what I've found out."

"Is that it?"

"Yep."

Gillian gave him an expression of disbelief. "You're not going to go and try to find the real killer?"

"No." But he wanted to say yes. That was what the old Cal would have done. Get involved. "Nope," he repeated. "But I'll make a call to Reynolds. See if he can get someone else to take a look at it."

Gillian still seemed unsure.

"Old habits are hard to break," Cal spoke again. "But I'm tryin' to form new ones. And I have to do it consciously so..." He didn't have to finish his sentence for Gillian to understand. He would start right now; he would blow off one of his oldest acquaintances because the changes he was trying to make were more important to him.


	33. Chapter 33

_AN: M rated chapter follows._

**PJ**

Cal put Lewis down carefully in his crib. He watched over for him a moment, checking to make sure he was definitely asleep and then he just watched him. His beautiful baby boy, all cherub cheeks and full lips and Gillian's nose. Cal pressed a hand lightly against his warm chest, feeling it rise and fall rapidly as his son slumbered peacefully. "Good night little man," Cal murmured and turned for the door. He made sure there was a night light on; in case he or Gillian had to get up in the night. It was so they didn't have to stumble around in the dark, but also didn't necessarily have to put on an overhead light and stab their eyes.

Cal checked the front door was locked, that they hadn't forgotten to put a light out, and that, more importantly, there would be a supply of coffee ready for when he got up in the morning. Tomorrow might be Saturday, but he was still going to need the caffeine. Then Cal headed for the bedroom, a slight spring in his step. Tonight was date night. They had had a really nice evening meal, Lewis had been fed and was in his cot, and now Cal was going to put Gillian to bed. He pushed open the bedroom door and found her turning down the covers, lamps on nightstands throwing soft yellow glows across the room. She turned to him as he came in. She was wearing a deep chocolate brown satin negligee, a fringe of black lace around the bottom, half way up her thigh, and at the top, around her breasts.

"Wow," Cal told her, closing the bedroom door and setting the baby monitor on his dresser as he passed it. He made a very quick beeline to where she had frozen in place. "You look fantastic."

Gillian gave him a slightly pleased smile and she sub-consciously ran a hand down the front of her body, over her stomach, as if she could smooth it away. Cal saw hesitation in her eyes and he stopped short of kissing her. He stood less than a foot away and asked what was wrong.

"I'm nervous," Gillian admitted.

"Because everythin's different?" Cal guessed, by passing the quip on his tongue.

"I was going to say because it's been so long. What do you mean everything's different?"

Cal didn't make mistakes often, but he wasn't infallible. "You know, with Lewis bein' in the next room."

"That's not what you meant," Gillian called him on it.

Cal thought about covering up his slip of the tongue. He could shrug it off fairly easily, he was sure, but it was probably too late for that now. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. "I meant cos you've had a baby. Things are different. Your body is different. That it might feel different."

Gillian looked worried. "What do you mean different?"

"Your body's been through changes. You're on a different level emotionally, hormonally, physically." Cal felt like he was treading on very dangerous ground. Very dangerous.

"Yes, I read those chapters too."

Cal realised he might be off the hook. "You're not worried about that though are you?"

"I am now."

In his head, Cal had an image of himself kicking himself in the proverbial balls. He could almost see his chances of having sex rushing for the door with its bags packed. "If it doesn't feel right than we don't have to do anythin'. I'm not gonna force you if you're feelin' uncomfortable." He hoped his steering the subject slightly off course would go unnoticed. He had started out making a very stupid reference to her body, as in, the fact that she had given birth to a baby, as in, a baby had passed its way through... and now he was hoping she would think he was talking about how that would affect her mentally, on an emotional level. And a hormonal level. Her body might not react to him in the same way it used to.

"I'm sorry. I'm just feeling all this pressure."

"No pressure," Cal told her gently.

"In my head," Gillian continued. "About what you're expecting and what I'm expecting and just jumping in to bed together and 'performing'."

When she put it like that Cal started to feel a little anxious about 'performing'. "Well, let's not put pressure on anythin'. We can just snuggle up in bed and maybe watch some TV and enjoy the time togetha without Lewis around." Cal gave her a very soft expression and her waist a squeeze.

"But you were looking forward to it."

"I'm not gonna lie and say I'm not a little disappointed to not be gettin' a shag tonight but I would certainly enjoy it a lot more if you were a willin' participant. So I'm not gonna force you. We can cuddle up and not worry about it until you're ready."

"Really?"

"Yeah really," Cal kissed her cheek. "Wouldn't be the first time right?'

Gillian gave him a slightly bashful smile and put her arms around his shoulders. "Thanks," she said softly over his back.

Cal hugged her tightly, enjoying how she felt squished up against him. "Wanna pick a movie?"

"Sure," Gillian moved to sit on the mattress she had just cleared of covers.

"Just not anythin' with cutesy animals in it or anythin," Cal kicked his shoes into the corner. He pulled his shirt off over his head and moved to the bathroom doorway to throw it in the hamper.

"See now, you pretend to be a hard man but you're a softy underneath," Gillian mused while flicking the flat screen TV opposite the bed to life. They hardly ever used it to curl up in bed to. Cal used it to watch the morning news while getting dressed, or watching BBC on a Saturday morning. If he could find half an hour to himself.

Cal undid his pants and hung them over the end of the bed. He whipped off his socks and took them into the bathroom, heaving them at the hamper and watching satisfied as they both dropped in.

"No come back?" Gillian called from the bedroom.

"I'm afraid retaliation will lead to a harsh sentence," Cal retorted reaching for his toothbrush. He heard Gillian laugh lightly and the cut off sounds of channels being changed. He was rinsing his mouth out when he heard the opening trumpet blasts of the 'Fox' production tag. Gillian had turned out the lamp on her side of the bed and was sitting up watching the screen intently, the covers over her legs. Cal had let her commandeer his side of the bed while she was pregnant and somehow they had never swapped back. So his dresser was now on her side of the room and the nightstand drawers were full of his books and reading glasses, alarm clock and photos.

"What are my chances of you pickin' a movie where somethin' gets shot up?" Cal asked as he climbed over the bed, jostling her roughly, purposefully, to her former side of the bed.

"Nowhere near being in the ball park," Gillian responded, her voice hitching as Cal nearly knocked her over. "Watch it," she told him good naturedly.

"Oh sorry," Cal pretended. He shifted down the mattress so his head was propped up on a pillow against the back of the bed. He kept the covers over his shins only. He liked summer for the warmth, not the sun. He eyed up the opening credits. The words were a bit blurry; but he couldn't be bothered reaching for his glasses or paying too much attention to whatever it was that they were watching.

"Am I allowed to cuddle up?"

"Course," Cal held open his arm and Gillian fitted her head against his shoulder, her arm over his abdomen. "You don't have to ask," Cal kissed the top of her head. "Always welcome ova here." He felt the shift of Gillian's facial muscles against his chest and guessed she had smiled in response. Cal turned his wrist and ran his fingers over her soft hair.

This was actually really nice, Cal thought while the movie started unfolding. Peace and quiet, a dark room, a view of Gillian's thighs, the press of her chest against his. No pressure. Just enjoying each other's company. And her hair was very soft and he could smell her delicate scent drifting the short distance towards him so that every time he breathed in she was there. Gillian shifted slightly, moving her hand across his sternum and pressing herself tighter against him.

No pressure. It probably really was for the best. While Cal had been male in thinking about the extra weight around her stomach and the fact that a baby had passed through her body, he was glad he'd had the good sense to be reminded of the other factors too. He was going to have to work extra hard to make sure she felt great and that she was turned on enough. Or resort to outside help, like personal lubricants. And now that he thought about it, they hadn't talked about birth control. Should they be talking about birth control? Gillian's fingers started tracing a pattern lightly against his skin.

She could still get pregnant even this soon after having a baby. If it were possible for her to get pregnant. Which had happened before. And after the miscarriage they had just carried on without a second thought to birth control, because, Cal could reason, they had probably both hoped in the back of their minds that she might get pregnant the old fashioned way. And now? He didn't know. But it was a conversation for another day. Maybe tomorrow if she was up for it. He didn't mind the extra weight. Didn't care. She was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.

"Have you seen this?" Cal asked.

"No. Why?"

"You seem distracted."

Gillian's hand stilled suddenly. "Sorry."

Cal dropped his hand to her upper arm. "I wasn't complainin'." He trailed his fingers up and down her soft skin a few times. It was a bad angle for his wrist. And the pull of the skin was sensitive against the pink scars he wore. He covered them during the day with his watch on one wrist and a plaited leather strap on the other. Emily had bought it for him. He hoped it wasn't for that express purpose.

Gillian's hand started up again. Cal gave himself an amused smile. Her hand shifted to the left slightly and continued. Cal told himself to start paying attention to the movie. Gillian would probably ask him about it later and he should be prepared with a few insights. The thing with watching movies and being able to see micro-expressions was that Cal could usually predict within the first twenty minutes what was going to happen in the end; even if the acting was good. Especially romantic comedies. The couple invariably always insisted they didn't like each other, Cal could see their lies, and then hooked up anyway. This one didn't seem to be too different. But there was an awful lot of making out already. And a sex scene! Gillian had thrown him a bone!

Then Cal realised, with a jolt in his stomach, that her fingers had sneaked up to his nipple and she was rubbing it somewhere between firmly and absently. He felt his blood start to pound. Was she doing it on purpose?

"Are you watchin' this?" Cal asked, trying to make his voice sound not so strained.

Gillian sighed and turned her head. She shifted up and kissed him firmly. Her hand went still and gripped around his rib cage to balance herself. Cal felt her breasts against his torso even more. It wasn't a hot kiss but the way her body was pressed against his and the smell of her strong in his head was enough to make him seriously question his ability to go back to watching the small screen. If he hadn't already created a volatile situation he would have thrown her back against the pillows and...

Gillian pulled away and repositioned her head towards the TV, her hand relaxing its grip. Except Cal didn't give a damn what was happening in the story line now. He was waiting for the bit when the hero got to shag the girl again. That was a really good bit. Or _a_ girl. Cal wasn't sure this particular blonde was the heroine. He felt Gillian's fingers on his skin again. He paid attention to her. She felt warmer against his body and... yes, he could detect the rise and fall of her breath. It was faster than it should be at rest. He wondered if the movie was having as much effect on her as it was on him.

Literally a minute later Gillian's hand suddenly trailed down over his navel making Cal just about jump off the mattress. He knew then for sure. "You're not watchin' this at all are you?" He accused, grabbing her hand and turning his hips towards her so he could lean over her. She looked up with wide blue eyes. She gave a slight shake of her head 'no' as an amused smile played on her lips. Cal kissed her. "Is that what you want?" She nodded yes. Cal kissed her again and let her hand go. His fingers found her thigh. He took in the softness of her skin as he trailed his hand up the back of it. He felt Gillian shudder against him. Her kiss became firmer, wetter, hotter; purposeful, more in command.

She pushed him back against the mattress and stretched up again to connect their mouths together. Her hand brushed over his groin and then smoothed up his chest, as if she were checking just how in to her he was. "Yes we're on the same page," Cal told her in murmur between her kisses. He felt her smile against his mouth and the pressure of her breasts on his chest.

"Cal?" Gillian asked, breaking away for a second to get the word out.

Cal finished the next kiss before responding. "Yes darlin'?"

Gillian had a way of playing her tongue in his mouth that made him want to pee his pants in excitement. She did it now and then drew away slightly to look him in the eye. "Will you make love to me?"

The way she kissed him normally was hard to say no to. When she kissed him like _that_, Cal was pretty sure he couldn't say 'no' even if he had wanted to. He kissed her briefly and shifted her back gently with his body weight and a guiding hand so she was lying back against the mattress and pillows. He dropped his head to her neck, feeling how warm the skin was, and tasting the slightly salty scent of her as he placed light kisses around her throat. His left hand was pinned against the bed but his right was free to roam. He smoothed fingers over her hip and up the curve of her waist. He felt her fingers tighten their grip on his arm. Her right arm was also pinned between them.

"Make me feel wonderful," Gillian told him softly.

Cal found the sensitive spot behind her ear and gave it a very gentle tease with his tongue. Gillian's body arched towards him, her finger tips digging into his arm.

"Please?" Gillian asked him in a whisper.

"You don't have to beg me darlin'. I want you to feel wonderful," Cal responded in a murmur. Gillian gave a heavy out-of-control breath in response. His nose was in her hair, his face against her neck as he teased her skin with his lips and tongue. He noticed it got suddenly hotter and he remembered how much of a turn on it was for her when he talked to her. Especially the stuff about her being beautiful and sexy. That was probably doubly important right now when he could, on occasion, read self-consciousness on her face about her body.

"I want you to know how beautiful you are," Cal told her. He let his right hand trail lower to her thighs again. "How utterly stunnin' every inch of your body is."

Gillian squirmed against him. Her chest started rising and falling more rapidly. Her hand shifted along his body to the elastic of his boxer-briefs, and then slipped underneath and around to his backside. Cal tipped his hips towards her, so his groin was pressed against her leg. "I want you to feel how attracted to you I am."

"Oh, Cal," Gillian breathed.

Cal wondered how quickly he could move this along. Generally love making had to be nice and slow, almost excruciating, as opposed to a good shag. And it had been so long he wanted to just rush to the end. He wanted to. But he wouldn't. He would take his time and work both of them into a frenzy. They kissed and caressed. Cal explored her body through and then under the negligee. He suspected if he attempted to take it off her she would object. Let her have some modesty, he didn't mind. It helped him fantasise what she would look like without it. Let his imagination run wild.

"I want to touch you," he told her gently, his hand shifting purposefully up the side of her thigh. Gillian gave a little pant, her body already tensing in anticipation. Cal shifted his hand to the top of her thigh. Wait a minute... he shifted his hand over slightly until he felt the soft coarseness of pubic hair.

"You're not wearin' undawear," he noted with surprise.

"No," Gillian shook her head slightly.

Cal pulled back to see her face. She gave him a slight smile. Cal groaned. "I love how you surprise me," he told her diving in to her neck again. He worked her ear and felt her squirm again. He turned his hand, delved between her legs, feeling his way slowly.

"Oh god Cal!" Gillian moaned in a way that sent his heart racing in excitement. Cal felt for her warmth, finger tips creeping lower and lower while his mouth connected hot and wet against her neck, that little spot in particular, so he knew she would have a hard time trying to concentrate on one thing or the other. The anticipation would drive her insane, he knew. And her reaction would drive _him_ insane. His fingers found their goal and Gillian bucked against him and gave out a low moan that quickened Cal's heart rate even more. He almost skipped a breath at her reaction. He shifted back to watch her face as his fingers set up a slow excruciating rhythm. He listened to her breath rasping faster, he could feel the heat rolling off her body, he could feel the electric tension building in her.

"No, stop!"

"Stop?" Cal echoed surprised, his fingers freezing where they were, pressed against her.

"I don't want that," Gillian panted through a strained tone of voice, while the tilt of her hips and tension in her hand on his wrist was every indication that she did.

"It's part of makin' you feel good sweetheart," Cal leaned down and kissed her lips. He could feel her indecision in the way she gripped his arm tightly. She wanted him to, but there was some sort of logic in her mind that was trying its way to the surface.

"I want you inside me."

"You can have both," Cal countered, barely letting her finish her sentence. Although he quite liked the idea of their bodies pressed together in a hot grind, he was willing to take her through a wave of pleasure first. He planted quick kisses along her jaw to her lips. "I want you to have it all."

"It's not about quantity Cal."

Cal chuckled. He dragged his hand away. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Gillian breathed.

"Are you tryin' to make my job harda?"

Gillian laughed lightly.

"What if I need to check you're ready? Am I allowed to do that?"

"Trust me Cal, you've never had any trouble turning me on," Gillian's blue eyes pierced into his.

Cal took a second to stare into their depths, then he gave a slight smile. "My god you're so beautiful."

"You make me feel beautiful," Gillian told him. She lifted herself up to meet his mouth and kissed him tenderly. Her other hand retracted from squeezing his ass and cupped his cheek. Her tongue was soft against his. He loved that she was just as good at the talking game; it made his stomach feel squibbly.

Cal went back to caressing her thighs, hoping to keep the level of excitement up for her, or build on it. He was gentle around her full breasts but paid no less attention to them than he normally would. The more she let him feel her, the more turned on she got, the more turned on he was; until he was leaning over her completely, pressing his body against hers. Gillian slid a hand down the front of his underwear, freeing him from the restriction. Cal pulled her hand away immediately.

"You don't want me to touch you?" She asked, her voice tight with emotion and desire and concerned surprise, her blue eyes looking up at him, questioning.

"I don't touch you, you don't touch me," Cal told her even though he throbbed beyond comfort with wanting to feel her slender fingers. But if she was going to remove that element from their game then it was going to go both ways.

"Unlike you, I haven't cultivated a million erogenous zones on your body."

"You are my numba one erogenous zone," Cal whispered at her. If he hadn't been trying so hard to make love to her at the moment, he might have suggested she start now. "You know what I like," he added quickly, not wanting to break the rhythm of running his hands over her body, over her soft skin, hot and damp with desire.

Gillian wrapped her arms around his neck, quickly pulling him in for another deep kiss that left them both breathless. She shifted his head to suck on his earlobe, to bite at the sensitive spot on his neck; her fingers drove into the back of his head, sticking his hair up in tufts. Cal, spurred on by the pace she had suddenly set, rushed his hand up her thigh to her breast. He kissed along her collarbone. He felt her lift herself off the bed to press her hips against him and she cried out suddenly. "Ok do it!"

Cal smiled to himself.

"I can't take anymore. I want you so badly," her voice whimpered.

Cal kissed her mouth, feeling her swollen lips, her hot breath. "I want _you_ so badly." Seven weeks had just about been torture incarnate. Yeah, seven weeks. Six and a half. Seven. Whatever. Forever.

Gillian's hands shifted south, gripping him. "Do it Cal."

As if he needed encouragement.

He shifted his hips back, taking the weight of his torso on his arms so he didn't crush her. He watched her face as he moved against her. She had her eyes closed and there was a little furrow of anticipation between her eyebrows, not to be confused with the one she had for worry. Her hands shifted to his upper arms, gripping tightly as she shifted her hips against him, making sure they were a perfect fit. Cal watched her for signs of discomfort, conscious of how things had changed.

"Make love to me Cal," Gillian murmured at him, her blue eyes glowing in the dim light as they looked up at him. Her breath was rapid and her cheeks were flushed. Cal attempted a slow movement that sent Gillian's head back into the pillow so her neck was stretched out at its full arch and her fingers pressed into the soft skin of his arms. With her throat exposed, Cal whispered his lips against it as he moved again. His body rubbed against the soft material of her negligee. Not as much fun as bare skin against skin. But fun in a different way. There was a built in bra and Cal stared down at her cleavage and the reactions of delight on her face as he shifted against her.

He moved again, keeping it slow until she moaned his name. And then, getting more and more excited himself, he upped the tempo, causing her to moan louder, to shift her hips in a way that caused a tighter friction. She was gasping for breath so quickly Cal was almost disappointed it wasn't going to last longer. He was pretty sure _he_ wouldn't be able to take much more if he didn't tip her over the edge. And while she was in the throes of full pleasure he took his own, burying his head into her hot neck while he caught his breath. When he felt her body ease into the aftermath he moved away from her and was rewarded with another low groan from Gillian's throat.

Cal moved back to his side of the bed, shifting the blankets around them to cover up. He could feel his heart pounding as he lay still for a moment. He realised the TV was off and the house completely quiet save for the sound of them catching their breaths. Music to Cal's ears. Then he encouraged Gillian onto her side so he could spoon up behind her. He draped an arm over her waist and rested his hand in the gap between her breasts to feel her heart beating. Gillian's fingers accompanied him, stroking the back of his hand.

"That was amazing," Gillian told him appreciatively.

Cal felt a spike of delight in his stomach at the compliment. He kissed her bare shoulder tenderly. "You're amazin'."

Gillian shifted a foot to his calf. "I would say it was almost worth the wait, but not seven weeks of it."

"Here, here," Cal agreed whole heartedly. "I wish we had made Lewis that way." He felt Gillian tense against him. "I mean, I wish we had gotten to make him that way."

"Me too," Gillian said in a small voice. She lifted her head to check the time. While she moved Cal saw the numbers too. An hour and a half had gone by. He grinned to himself, pleased. It wasn't a record by their standards, but it was close. "Oh god, I could fall asleep right now," Gillian told him as she settled again.

"Go ahead," Cal told her in a low voice, holding her tightly.

"You won't be offended?"

"Nope."

Gillian ran her hand down his arm to his fingers and pressed them between his so she was covering the back of his hand with her own. She gave a contented sigh. "There better be a repeat performance in the morning."

Cal smiled to himself, feeling sleepy too and entirely satisfied. "Count on it."


	34. Chapter 34

_AN: M chapter part 2!_

**PJ**

"I'm terribly sorry I haven't spent much time with you this summa."

"It's ok Dad. You've had _way_ more on your plate the last few months than normal," Emily responded genuinely nonchalant. She tucked her hands into the top pockets of her jeans and hovered. Zoe's car was parked in Cal's driveway, on loan to their daughter while she came to say goodbye.

"Well the timin' was terrible."

Emily gave a slight smile. "There's always Thanksgiving."

"Yeah," Cal's eyes lit up. "Come for Thanksgivin'."

"It won't be too much?" She gave a distant wave towards the house. She meant Lewis.

"Course not. I'd love to have my family togetha for the holiday."

"You mean the pointless American holiday?" Emily teased.

"That's the one."

"You're getting soft as you get older."

"Oi," Cal stepped towards her. "I'm maturin'."

"What? Now?"

"Bloody hell," Cal complained. "Always startin' in on your old man."

Emily laughed. "Just getting back at you for all those years I wasn't allowed to answer back."

"You still aren't," Cal grumbled. "Come here?" He opened his arms for a hug. Emily stepped into them and they squeezed each other fiercely. "I'll miss ya."

"Me too Dad," Emily said over his shoulder. She stepped away.

"What happened about your pape-a?"

"Oh right yeah, I forgot to tell you with all the crap that happened." A pause. "I passed."

"How well did you pass?"

"Well enough."

"Em?"

"I got a B minus."

"Do I need to tell you to really settle down his year? It's your last year and it'll be harda and you'll need to concentrate more than eva before?"

"No Dad, you don't."

"And that boy Ajay."

"He's twenty-five Dad," Emily pointed out.

"He's a distraction for you."

"He's not. I just messed around a little bit this year because I was so serious about studying when I first started my degree and I did really well and I thought I could handle it now that I'm older. I was just celebrating finally being free from parental control; except it was delayed a bit. Ajay's a good guy Dad."

"Well at least he's graduated."

"Actually, he's doing his masters. So we will still be seeing each other."

"So you're quite serious with him then?" Cal watched her face lightly. With all the stuff with Brandon Mitchell and worrying about Lewis, Cal had neglected her. She had been home for months and he'd barely seen her. He hadn't had a chance to talk to her about Ajay, school, other important things.

"I'm twenty-two. I take nothing seriously," Emily gave him a facetious grin.

"Except school," Cal pointed out. He didn't need her to tell him how she felt about Ajay. She liked him a lot.

"Right," Emily's smile grew purposefully serious. "Except school."

"All right come here," Cal pulled her into another hug. "Take care, don't forget to ring me if you need money or help with your study, and you know, maybe ring me if you feel the need to talk."

Emily pulled back and gave him a smile. "I promise to call."

Cal kissed her forehead and stepped away from her. "All right. Off you go. Say hello to your mutha for me."

Emily walked towards the black sedan. "I will," she called over her shoulder. "You take care too Dad."

Cal nodded he would. "I love you darlin'."

"Love you too," Emily turned to him and gave a little wave before slipping behind the wheel. Cal watched until she had pulled into the street, his heart feeling a small beat of loss at seeing her drive away. His baby girl. Off to college again. The last year had raced by.

Cal scuffed up the steps to the front stoop and closed and locked the door behind him. Gillian had taken Lewis for a feed and he found her in their bedroom, propped up on the bed. She gave him a smile as he came in. "Nice timing. Lewis is nearly finished I think."

Cal sat on the bed and then lay back, stretching his arms over his head. "And then maybe he'll take a nap so I can have one too."

"Did Emily get away ok?"

"Yep. She's not actually leavin' till tomorrow mornin'."

"He's finished," Gillian announced.

Cal sat up quickly, back on duty. He took Lewis from Gillian while she redressed herself. Lewis gave a large belch and grizzled and milk spewed out of his mouth and hit Cal in the side of the head. "Bloody hell," Cal groaned, feeling the warm liquid run down his neck and beneath his collar.

Gillian laughed. "Ew, it's in your ear!"

"Ugh," Cal moaned in disgust. He held Lewis at arm's length. The baby grizzled again, clearly not enjoying being disowned. "Here," Cal dumped Lewis back in his mother's arms. "I'm havin' a showa." He whipped his t-shirt off over his head. He could smell the milk now and it was turning his stomach sour. "You shook him up before you handed him ova didn't you?" Cal accused lightly as he undid the fly of his jeans.

"Yes," Gillian giggled. "I don't think I've ever seen you get undressed so quickly."

"Oh, so you were just hopin' for a strip show, were you?" Cal asked with mock indignation. Gillian giggled again, resting Lewis up against her shoulder to finish burping him. "You only have to ask darlin'," he said leaning over her for a kiss.

"Ew, you smell like curdled milk," Gillian turned her head away.

"You can thank your son for that," Cal turned for the bathroom. The first thing he did was scrub the side of his head and wrung a finger through his ear. Then he washed his hair to get rid of the smell. It was not the first time he had been thrown up on; he'd had a girlfriend in college who was a spectacular power vomiter after far too many drinks, but having sick in his ear was definitely a first. Five minutes later he was out again. He dried off quickly and headed back to the bedroom to get dressed for the second time that morning. Cal was pulling open his top drawer for clean underwear when Gillian came back in.

"Lewis is asleep," she announced as she approached. She had her hand on his abdomen the next second and stepped in close to nuzzle his ear. "You smell much better," she murmured as she pulled the towel away from his waist.

Cal felt a shock of surprise and delight. As he turned towards her Gillian kissed him hard. Cal heard the towel drop to the floor and blood rush immediately south. She had him breathless in less than a minute. She guided his hands under her shirt to her bare skin and then let him explore on his own. She pulled him in tightly against her so Cal had to snake his hands around to the smooth skin of her back. Her tongue dominated over his so he groaned with the heat of her kiss.

"Did I mention Lewis was asleep?" Gillian asked, as if he needed convincing.

"You might've mentioned that yeah," Cal moaned. He turned her towards the bed with an intense desire to quell the throbbing in his groin. He walked her backwards across the room while he pulled her shirt off over her head. She was wearing a nursing bra underneath, not exactly sexy, but still, the swell of her breasts was antagonising. Cal dropped his head to her chest, kissed, sucked, licked until Gillian gave a little moan. They reached the bed and fell back against the mattress.

Gillian's hands were already working their magic quickly. Frenzied by her pace Cal roughly dug hands beneath her trousers and underwear. She bucked her hips against him and gave another breathless groan. Cal didn't need to ask her how she wanted this to go. He didn't need to spend time turning her on. She already was. He dropped his mouth to her neck, finding her favourite spot easily, taking in the heady scent of her arousal. He shifted his hands, pushed her trousers down further. Then he moved back from her completely and tugged and pulled her trousers over her thighs and threw them to the floor. Gillian was panting at him, her breath matching his; her blue eyes dark with desire. Her arms opened to welcome him back in and Cal just about dived back on top of her.

"You're a very sexy woman, you know that?" He told her, pressing his body tightly against hers so he could feel her breasts pushing against his chest, the heat of her torso against his, the solidness of her thighs against his.

Gillian's forehead creased into a little frown. Her hand shifted between them. "Don't tease me all day," she groaned at him, her hand clearly indicating what she wanted.

All thoughts of being gentle with her gone, Cal thrust into her hard, causing her to cry out in delight. "Shh," Cal told her off. "Don't wake up Lewis."

Gillian giggled. "Sorry," she whispered. "Too hard for self control."

Cal laughed and distracted, Gillian turned him over. She straddled across his hips and set up a slow grind. Cal folded his hands behind his head and watched her; cheeks red, blue eyes alight, light brown hair slightly mussed; sexy as hell. She raked her fingers down his chest, over his nipples, making him flinch at the pleasure of it.

This was better than last time. Gillian had been too much of a passive participant and Cal, not normally bothered by that, had been too much in his own head. This time, it was pure instinct, spontaneous; their best kind of sex.

Gillian got a little faster and pressed down on his stomach to steady herself. She tilted her head back slightly, closed her eyes. Cal watched amused as she took control of her own pleasure. "Don't get too comfortable," she told him, eyes still closed. "I am going to make you work."

"I'm up for it," Cal told her quickly.

Her face broke into a smile. "Come here," she coaxed with her voice. Cal sat up slightly, pulling himself up by his abdominal muscles so he didn't upset her balance. Who needed a gym when Gillian gave him a work out like this? She kissed him fiercely, her mouth on fire. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she hugged him close against her chest. She kissed into his neck and Cal could hear her ragged breath so pronounced he felt another jolt of desire he couldn't ignore. He turned her quickly to the left, crushing her down on to the mattress. Cal focussed on kissing her for a second, fighting to get dominance. Gillian struggled back and it made Cal more excited. Then she smacked him on the backside. "Don't stop," she demanded.

Cal just about stumbled. He loved it when she was like this; giving just as good as she was getting. He set up a quick tempo that caused her to arch her back off the bed and moan loudly again. Encouraged, he went harder. He checked her face to make sure he wasn't actually hurting her. Not that he'd ever gotten to the point where he had. He saw something in her face that made him ask, "you like that?"

"Uh huh," Gillian breathed at him, her fingers in his hair tightened. Cal shifted the angle and she cried out, her muscles contracted so she curled up off the bed slightly. She pulled his hair. "I want..." she paused, gasped for breath, her eyes widening slightly. "You to..."

Cal grinned and shifted away again. Now he was completely in control. "Use your words darlin'. Tell me what you want."

"I want you to..."

Cal smothered her with another deep wet kiss. "What do you want?"

"Do that again," she finished. Cal complied. "Cal! Oh god!"

Cal just about lost it. He stopped, had to catch his breath, had to calm himself down. It would be no good if he got his rocks off before she did. Gillian's hands pressed into his arms. "Keep going," she encouraged him gently. Cal started off slowly again. "Do it harder," Gillian requested.

"Magic word?"

"Please?"

"Nope," Cal actually slowed it down.

"What?" Her eyes flew open to look at him in desperation.

"Try again," Cal teased.

Gillian squeezed his upper arm tightly. "Don't be a bastard."

Cal laughed. He dropped his head against hers, whispered in her ear, "Tell me you love me."

"I love you Cal," Gillian immediately responded. "I love you." Cal rocketed the tempo up again. "I love you!" Gillian cried out. Cal felt her entire body tighten against him as pleasure rushed through her. "I love you," she whimpered, tilting her head back against the mattress, her fingers gripping him tightly.

Cal moved against her a few more times, throwing himself over the edge of the cliff to join her. He buried his face in her neck, his favourite place to be. He could feel her body, hear her breath and smell her exquisitely from there. "Gillian," he murmured against her skin. "I love _you_." He waited until she had stopped writhing and then shifted away. He lay flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling, catching his breath. It was Gillian who turned into his arm and pressed up close against him. He could feel her breath tickle across his skin. He rubbed his hand over her slick shoulder. "I'm gonna need anotha showa now."

"Maybe I'll join you," Gillian murmured.

"I dunno," Cal mused. "You're a bit of a distraction."

Gillian laughed lightly. "You were the one stripping off right in front of me earlier."

"Oh, so that was what this was all about. One tiny little strip show and you jump me?" Cal teased. A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Oh god Gillian!"

"What?" She sat up slightly to look at him, alarm etched into her features.

"We keep havin' sex without protection."

"Protection from what?" She asked him mildly amused.

"_Protection_, protection," Cal told her. "You could get pregnant."

"Would that matter?"

Cal was suddenly far more alert that he wanted to be. "You want to get pregnant?"

Gillian gave a slight shrug. "I'm just saying that the chances are so miniscule it'd be a miracle if it happened."

"Are you tellin' me you wanna have anotha baby?"

"I haven't thought about it," Gillian gave a slight frown and Cal knew that was the truth. "Do you think we should think about it?"

"All I know is, you've gotten pregnant the old fashioned way once before, even when the odds were _stacked_ against us, and we've had sex three times in the last two weeks..." (Terrible statistics in Cal's books). "Without any thought to birth control... and Lewis is just two months old..."

Gillian sighed and lay on her back. This time Cal shifted so he could look at her. "It wasn't intentional," she told him carefully. "We can be more careful if you're worried."

"I am a little bit."

Gillian gave him a solemn nod.

"Sorry to kill the mood," Cal added.

Gillian gave him a brilliant smile that lit up her eyes. "You didn't kill the mood."


	35. Chapter 35

Gillian felt the weak winter sun attempt to warm her back. Not that it was really a winter sun as such, but after nearly two weeks of rain, she wasn't sure the sun knew how to shine anymore. Gillian ran her finger down the next column on the sheet in front of her. She checked the corresponding number on the screen. That one added up. She moved on to the next. That one was the same too. She sighed and flipped to the next physical page in front of her. Another row of columns and figures was revealed. There was a mistake in there, she knew it, she just had to find it. Her own mistake though. She had rushed to finish inputting the data and had been distracted by Lewis crying in the background, waiting for her so they could go home, while Cal had hovered, trying to do his best to soothe the five month old. She had insisted on doing it before she left for the night. Then the next day she could start on the next stage of shifting the numbers around to make the weekly billing hours work against pay roll and tax... she should have just left it.

There was a tap on her glass door. Her days were full of numbers, spreadsheets and if she was lucky, some actual work on a case. She was still the resident psychologist, so occasionally someone would come and ask her to explain the reasoning behind a witness's or a victim's or a suspect's words or behaviours. It was a nice balance though. Her mornings were with Lewis. She brought him to work, usually asleep and got some of the mundane work done. Cal took Lewis with him as much as he could while he was working too and they swapped him back and forth a bit until Gillian went home in the late afternoon. It cancelled out the need for day care and it meant she got to spend so much time with her son; and so did Cal. She liked it that way a lot. It would get harder when Lewis started exploring the world around him and become demanding in other ways.

Gillian looked up as the door was pushed open. "Casey!" She got up from behind her desk with a smile as one of her oldest friends came in.

"Am I disturbing you?"

"No. Come on in," Gillian moved around the furniture to give her a hug. One thing she had noticed about having a child was she had far less time for anyone else besides those in her immediate vicinity. Before, she would take the time to go and see her friends and family. Now, it was a struggle to get quality time with her husband, let alone anyone else. "What are you doing here?"

"I was actually in the neighbourhood," Casey told her. Gillian indicated they should go and sit on the couches. If she sat at her desk, she would be inclined to work while her friend was trying to talk to her. Gillian could see the neighbourhood comment was a truthful one, not just an opening line. "And since I was, I thought I would stop by and see you, seeing as you're a recluse these days." Casey looked around. "Where is the little guy?"

"With his father."

"And how are you doing?"

"Good," Gillian gave a smile. She was tired. It seemed constantly these days but she had no complaints. "How about you? How come you were in the neighbourhood?"

"I was meeting someone for lunch."

Gillian gave a slight smile. "A guy?"

"Yes a guy."

"The same guy?" She knew Casey had been dating someone for a while now but she had lost track of how long.

"Yes the same guy. He asked me to move in with him."

"Wow," Gillian gave a pleased smile. "That's great."

"In New York."

Gillian felt her face fall. "New York?"

"Hey Gill," Cal burst into her office. He had Lewis on his hip. He suddenly noticed she wasn't alone. "Oh sorry. Hi Casey."

"Hi Cal," she gave him a smile in greeting.

"How you doin'?"

"Good thank you."

"Um, sorry to interrupt but this guy just dropped a load that is stinkin' out my office and I need the bag."

Gillian pointed to where it was against the wall. She felt a little hollow in her chest. Her friend was moving away.

"Thanks luv," Cal bent to retrieve it. "Let's get you freshened up," Cal talked to Lewis who was staring at Gillian with wide blue eyes. He reached out a little hand towards her, looking almost surprised to see that she was there.

"Is he talking yet?" Casey asked.

"No," Gillian shook her head. "No it's too early for talking. Noises though, not words." He was learning slowly. His doctor said he was always _just_ behind the milestones he should be reaching. And she worried about it. But right now, she was worried about losing her friend. "So New York?"

"Yeah, Mark is getting transferred." Casey told Gillian about his firm and his promotion. Gillian had met him a few times; they had been dating nearly a year now. But she didn't know him so well. She and Casey had drifted apart again. Just one of those things in life.

Gillian saw Cal stride purposefully past her office windows. He pulled open the door and strode on in. Lewis was crying. "I'm sorry to dump him back on you but Loke-a's out and Ria's helpin' me and Heidi's on the phone."

That was the list of their at work babysitters.

"It's ok," Gillian told him, holding out her arms to take their son back. Cal passed her the already warmed bottle and then powered out of her office again.

"Well at least he didn't come in to drop him off when he needed a diaper change," Casey noted.

"Want to feed him?" Gillian offered.

Casey looked uneasy. Gillian stood up anyway and approached where her friend was sitting in the armchair. She put Lewis in the other woman's lap and unceremoniously stuck the bottle in his mouth. He quit crying almost immediately. Gillian held the bottle up right for Casey to take. "Make sure he doesn't get any air," Gillian told her. She went to get one of Lewis's blankets in case he sicked up; it was always better to be prepared.

"Man I can't get over you finally being a Mom," Casey watched her take her seat again. "This little guy looks just like you."

"I reckon he has Cal's eyes."

"You seem happy Gill."

Gillian gave a half smile. "I am happy."

"But worried?"

Gillian gave a tight smile, didn't respond.

"About?"

"Everything. All the time. It's funny, since I found out I was pregnant, I worry about all these things that never used to bother me. Having enough money, being on time, traffic, if I'm healthy, Cal, this place." Plus, the homeless, gun laws, the condition of the roads, the neighbour's dog in their front yard, if her car was working properly, if Lewis was getting enough to eat, the diaper rash he always seemed to start on a Saturday morning, whether Cal had clean socks, that there was enough food in the fridge... She had always worried about the Lightman Group, but now it was in a different way. It wasn't just about making payroll at the end of the week so their employees would get paid; it was whether there would be a legacy left for her son.

"I heard about what happened to Cal," Casey noted softly. Gillian sighed. Everyone had heard about what happened to Cal. "So that's kind of a justified concern. When's the court date?"

"Next year."

"And I think worrying is normal for a new mother."

"That's what Cal tells me."

"He's one of the best."

"He really is," Gillian mused. "When are you moving?"

"In the next few weeks."

**PJ**

"All right young man, you and me," Cal pulled the high chair closer. Lewis waved his arms and gave Cal a smile. Cal reached for the mush that was Lewis's second attempt at solid food. It would be easier without Gillian in the room, because Lewis would be able to smell her and associate her with breast milk. "Ready?" Cal asked him. And it was better to attempt to feed him the rice cereal and milk mashed up mess while Lewis wasn't starving to death. With babies, they weren't ever just hungry, they were starving to death. They weren't a little bit tired, they were tired to death. They weren't bored, they were bored to death. They weren't wet, they were soaked to death.

Cal gathered a very small quarter teaspoon of solid-ish food and pinned down Lewis's arms so he could get to his mouth unobstructed. Lewis had his mouth open and he let Cal put the spoon in his mouth. Cal tipped it up so scrape the mush off into Lewis's mouth. Lewis swirled the creamy coloured cereal rice around his tongue for a few seconds and then pushed it out again. He had a smile on his face, as if he enjoyed the sensation. Cal quickly used the spoon to scrape it off his son's chin. "But how does it taste?" Cal asked him. "Need more salt? Shall I let the chef know?"

Lewis opened his mouth at his father, "Ah!"

"More?" Cal asked, regathering the meal on the spoon. He gently pinned Lewis's arms down again and tried again. Again, Lewis swirled it around and pushed it out. "You don't like it?" Cal asked him. He dumped the rejected morsel onto the other side of the bowl and got himself a fresh portion. "Can Daddy have some?" He held the spoon up to his own mouth. Lewis looked a little concerned as if Cal was stealing his game away. Cal put it in his mouth. "Mmm, yummy," he quickly swallowed it down. It was bland as hell; rank. It took effort for Cal not to gag. Lewis formed his mouth into an 'o'. "Want to try some?" He gathered a fresh portion for Lewis and popped it in the boy's mouth. "Mmm," Cal made the noise. "Good huh? Daddy might have some more."

Lewis started to push the rice out and then changed his mind. He swallowed it. "Ah!" he announced.

"All gone?" Cal asked. "That's my boy. Good man!" He simulated a high five. "More?" He attempted another spoonful. He didn't care what the doctor said. Lewis wasn't slow; he was just taking his time getting the hang of things.

"You're so cute with him," Gillian said softly as he came into the room. Lewis gave her raised eyebrows, an 'o' of his mouth. Then a brilliant smile.

"He ate some," Cal told her pleased.

"I saw," Gillian pulled up a chair. "Can I have a go?"

"Sure," Cal relinquished the spoon even though he wanted to keep going; he enjoyed having something that Gillian couldn't do as a mother. Even if it was just for a minute. "How's your Mum then?

"She wants us to fly out for Christmas."

"Oh." Cal watched her profile carefully. She was giving nothing away. In fact, she seemed more interested in Lewis than talking to him right now. She gave Lewis a smile and a tiny morsel. "Gill."

"Hhm?"

"Do you wanna go out there for Christmas?" Cal asked firmly.

Gillian turned to him. She studied him for a second. "What do you think?"

Cal suspected her answer would be based on his response. "Honestly? Nothin' against your Mum and Dad, but I think flyin' out to San Diego for a few days ova Christmas with a six month old who has started teethin', sounds like a lot of hard work."

Gillian looked relieved. She visibly relaxed. "Oh thank god. I couldn't think of anything worse right now."

Cal was surprised by her answer. He had half expected a small argument and then to cave to whatever she wanted. "Really?"

"Yeah. I don't even know why Mom moved out there," Gillian responded annoyed.

"I'm sure it wasn't personal against you," Cal interjected.

He went ignored. "They said Dad was moving here and now she's missing out on Lewis. We can't just pack everything up to fly out there every five minutes."

Cal sat stunned at the outburst.

"After all the shit he put her through, all those years of his drinking and... and... and she just goes back to him!" Gillian paused. "It's like nothing happened!"

"Maybe she's very forgivin'."

"Or stupid."  
"Gill."

"No seriously, Cal," Gillian turned to him, Lewis ignored this time. "I'd like to know why. Has she forgotten so easily all those nights he drank food money away? Or attempted to take us to school so hung over he couldn't fit the key in the car door?"

Cal wondered if he was supposed to comment at this point. When Gillian was silent for a second longer he figured he was safe. "Did you not forgive him those things?"

Gillian's head slumped slightly like he had just highlighted a very good point. He _had_ just highlighted a very good point. Gillian had spent years after her parent's divorce being angry with her father. During college, she had spurned him completely. And as she had grown, matured and finished her psychology doctorate, she had worked on forgiving him. When Cal had met her, she had a tentative relationship with him. But they were working on it. And Cal had admired her strength. He wasn't so sure he could be so open to forgiveness. He couldn't help but think, if his mother came back to him, what would he say to her?

Gillian gave a heavy sigh. Cal gently pried the spoon out of her fingers. Lewis was banging about and calling out. Cal gave the boy another small morsel. "I feel like if we go, then I'm endorsing what's happened," Gillian spoke quietly.

"I didn't realise they were looking for your approval."

"What do you think the invitation was about?" Gillian shot back.

"Did Matthew and Kate get an invitation too?"

"Yes."

"Are they goin'?"

"No."

"Will your parents be hurt by neitha of you goin'?"

"Quite possibly."

"Are you bein' vindictive?" Although Cal wasn't sure Gillian knew the meaning of the word through her own personal experience.

"No," Gillian answered gently. "You already raised the practical complications and maybe there are some emotional ones too, but vindictive is not one of them."

Cal turned his attention away from Lewis who was now pushing the rice out of his mouth and squishing it between his fingers. Gillian's face was somewhere between contrite and concerned, like she was worried what Cal thought of her. "I've neva known you to be vindictive. But I do know how you feel about your childhood, your fartha in particula." Cal paused. "Maybe it's not the right time to attempt happy families huh?"

Gillian nodded. "That's exactly it." She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "I'm glad you got it."

Cal gave her his 'good boy' grin. Gillian laughed. Lewis slapped his hands down on his highchair tray, not liking that he was being ignored.


	36. Chapter 36

Cal finished the sentence he was typing and hit the automatic cues on the keyboard to save the work. He sat back and listened. He was pretty sure Lewis had been crying for over five minutes now. What had been easy to ignore grizzling, was now bawling. He got up, wondering where Gillian was, if she was dealing with the situation, whatever it was. She was in the kitchen. She had Lewis in her arms and was rocking from foot to foot. He was bright red in the face, tears flowing out of his eyes as he screamed. Gillian was murmuring to him quietly, asking what the problem was. Cal saw barely contained anger in her.

"All right luv?" He gave his usual greeting.

Gillian marched over to him and just about threw Lewis into his chest. "Your turn," she told him tightly. "I can't take anymore."

"All right," Cal quickly put his arms around the hot body of his son before he fell to the floor. Gillian stalked out of the room and slammed the kitchen door. Lewis cried harder. "All right, okay," Cal turned Lewis so they were chest to chest. "What's goin' on with you little man?" Lewis started wailing. "You're warm," Cal noted. "Are you sick?" He placed the back of his hand on the boy's forehead. Then pressed it against his cheeks and then slipped a hand under his shirt to feel his abdomen. "Just your cheeks then."

Cal took him over to the kitchen table and stood him on the surface. He checked his diaper, it was clean and dry. Cal checked the time. He was pretty sure Lewis had had a feed an hour ago. He wasn't due for his evening meal. "Are you tired?" Cal asked. He watched his son's features, as if the answer lay in a micro-expression. Lewis looked up at him with pitiful blue eyes. He didn't stop crying, didn't even tone it down a notch. "I think you're tired." Normally Gillian would breastfeed him to sleep. Cal didn't think it would be a good idea to go and disturb her right now.

The phone in Cal's pocket started ringing. Lewis stopped for a second, curious as Cal dug it out. "Who's that now?" Cal asked him, switching the device around one-handed to answer. Lewis took a massive deep breath. Cal checked the caller ID. "It's your sista." Lewis's face screwed up again but he didn't bawl. Not until Cal had answered the call.

"Hey Dad."

Lewis let rip with a long wail.

"What was that?" Emily asked. Her voice sounded faint over the noise of Lewis.

"That's your brutha," Cal told her. He picked Lewis up again with one arm and adopted the rock Gillian had tried a few minutes ago.

"He doesn't sound happy," Emily spoke louder.

"He's really not," Cal noted. The sound of his son crying was hard to hear but he had just walked into the situation with fresh reserves. Gillian was at her wits end. "He's teethin'."

"Oh well that sucks."

"Yeah," Cal went to the kitchen cupboards and eye searched for something to give Lewis for him to gnaw on. "So, what's up?"

"I can call back."

"Nah, I'm good. Talk away, but speak up, I have a screamin' kid in my otha ear."

"Just thought I'd check in," Emily told him lightly.

Cal had a look in the fridge. "So are you good?"  
"Yep I'm good. Are you good? Aside from the screaming?"

"Yep I'm good," Cal echoed. He headed for the guest bathroom. "School?"

"Fine. Hard but good. Ajay's helping me study, you'd be so proud."

"Yeah about that..." Cal looked in the cupboards beneath the sink. He dropped the phone and it clattered noisily over the tiles. Lewis quietened down, watching the phone skid across the room. "Uh oh," Cal told Lewis.

Lewis pointed at the phone, "Ah, ah."

Cal went and retrieved it. "Still there?"

"What was that?"

"I dropped the phone sorry."

"At least Lewis stopped crying."

'_Don't jinx it!_' Cal thought. "What was I sayin'?"

"I don't know, something about Ajay."

"Oh, yeah, that. I was wonderin' if, seein' as you piked out on me for Thanksgivin', you would come for Christmas instead. Unless your mutha has got in first?"

"No she hasn't but what does this have to do with Ajay?"

"Well, I was thinkin' he could come as well." Cal pointed to Lewis's reflection in the bathroom mirror and widened his eyes giving a silent 'who's that!?' Lewis pointed to the mirror.

There was a long silence. "Are you serious?"

"Yep."

Lewis lunged forward to touch his reflection.

Another long pause. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. He's your boyfriend and I thought it might be nice to have a family Christmas all togetha and that way I can get to know him a bit betta."

"Well I think that sounds really nice."

"If you don't mind puttin' up with a screamin' brutha and an ova tired fartha. Plus, Gillian's a little cranky, but I probably shouldn't have told you that."

Emily chuckled. "Maybe we could give you guys the night off or something, so you can go out."

"Now _that_ sounds delightful."

"I'll talk to Ajay about it."

"Great, I'll talk to Gillian."

"So how is Gillian?"

"You wanna talk to her?"

"Not particularly."

"She's good. Tired but good."

Lewis lost interest in himself and started crying again; more like whining. He dropped his head on Cal's shoulder

"Uh oh," Emily noted on the phone. "I'll really go this time Dad."

"Let me know about Christmas. I'd love to have you and Ajay."

"Thanks Dad. Love you."

"You too," Cal hung up. "Come on then," he said to Lewis as he slipped his phone back into his pocket and shifted out of the bathroom again. "What am I gonna do with you huh? It's too early to put you to sleep." Lewis wailed into his shoulder again. "And you are clearly determined to exercise your lungs." Cal went back to the kitchen. He got a clean tea towel out of the drawer and wet the corner of it with cold water under the tap. He wiped Lewis's hot face with it; cleaning away tears and snot. The coldness stunned the little boy for a moment and his cries dampened down to whimpers.

"We're gonna have to load up with supplies for you," Cal told him now he was quieter. "Othawise you're gonna have a terrible time cuttin' your teeth." He raised his eyebrows at his son as if he expected an answer. "What do you think?" Lewis stared at him. "I agree," Cal told him. He rinsed the cloth again, left it a bit damper this time and coaxed it into Lewis's mouth. He sucked on it and then gummed it. "Betta?" Cal asked him as he went quiet. "Betta for Daddy anyway."

Cal went to sit in the armchair in the lounge. He tucked Lewis under his arm so his head was resting against the front of his shoulder and Cal's arm was around his body. Cal put the TV on quietly, some news station. He had no desire to watch it; he just hoped the background noise would quell his son's discomfort. It was probably a combination of the TV, the cloth to chew on, the steady rise and fall of Cal's breath and the fact that Lewis had exhausted himself by screaming his head off; he soon fell asleep. Cal wondered if Gillian would come back now that everything was quiet. When a few minutes had passed he got up awkwardly with Lewis in his arms and took him to his bedroom. He would probably only be out for a short nap but it should be enough time for Cal to now soothe Gillian.

She was in bed, under the covers even though she was still fully dressed. She had her back to the door and Cal quickly traipsed around the bed and jumped on to the mattress in front of her. She wasn't asleep but she gave him an aggravated expression anyway. "Where's Lewis?"

"I smotha-ed him," Cal answered, shifting so he was propped up on his elbow.

"That's not even funny," Gillian struck at his shoulder hard.

"Ow, ow, all right," Cal fended her off. "He's in his room. Asleep. For now." Cal saw a flicker of surprise on her face. "Tired himself out I think." Then he saw shame on her face. "Stop that right now."

Gillian turned away from him annoyed, so she was lying on her back. Cal reached out and cupped her jaw. He turned her head gently back towards him. "What happened?"

"He wouldn't stop crying."

Cal nodded. "And you got frustrated?"

"Yes," Gillian mumbled like a child admitting they deserved to be punished.

"I know it's frustratin' as hell sometimes. Doesn't mean you don't love him any less."

"I know I should be grateful for every minute with him but sometimes..."

"Sometimes you need a break," Cal supplied. "Especially when you spend all day with the little guy."

"I feel guilty."

"Don't be guilty; that's completely normal."

"I'm his mother, I should be able to soothe him right?"

"You do. You do a great job. But you are human too you know."

"I'm not feeling better."

Cal opened up his arms to hold her and when she didn't move to shift into his embrace he shuffled his body against her and smothered her. "He's teethin', he's gonna be miserable no matta what we do. Best to not take it personally. When he gets olda he'll tell you he hates you and he wishes he was neva born and you're ruinin' his life."

"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?"

"My point is," Cal shifted through her hair with his nose until he came across skin. He kissed it even though he wasn't sure if it was her neck or her shoulder. "We love him no matta what he says or does. We love him when he screams at us for hours and then pick ourselves up and love him some more when he comes back for round two."

"I know."

"You know you can ask for help when you need it. I know I can be a bit blind when I'm workin' on somethin' but just come and holla at me."

"Simple instruction's right?"

"Yep, absolutely," Cal pulled back to look her in the eye. "Make it clear darlin' and I will drop everythin' to be there for you."

Gillian caressed his hair back from his forehead. "You know, when I'm with you, I feel like I can do anything."

Cal gave her a slight smile. He turned his head to kiss her palm. "You can do anythin' without me too."

**PJ**

"I'll get it!" Cal yelled towards the bedroom as he got up from the couch. He swung Lewis to his hip and made sure his son hadn't lost the hard plastic ring he was rubbing against his aching gums. Cal strode quickly down the hall. "That's your sista," Cal told Lewis. Lewis stared up at him, the orange ring between his lips, held in place by both hands. Cal pulled open the front door. Emily gave him a smile immediately; Ajay, behind her, looked a little unsure.

"Merry Christmas Dad! Merry Christmas Lewis!"

Lewis threw his face into Cal's shoulder to hide from Emily. "Don't take it personally," Cal told her. "He's bein' shy at the moment." He stepped aside so Emily could stand next to him. "Merry Christmas," Cal hugged her with his free arm and kissed her cheek. "All right Ajay?" Cal offered him his hand.

"Mr Lightman," Ajay shook it. "Merry Christmas."

"Cal," he corrected. "This is Lewis," he attempted an introduction. Lewis recognised his name and gave a disgruntled squeal into Cal's shoulder. "Come in, come in," Cal held the door back, ignoring Lewis. "You guys are in Em's room." Ajay brought the bags inside and Emily took him down the hallway. Cal leaned out of the front door to wave to Zoe, who was pulling out of the driveway. She gave him a small wave from the driver's seat of her car. "Merry Christmas!" Cal called before she was too far away. She returned the holiday greeting. Cal waited until she was out of sight before shutting the door.

Cal went back to the living room. There was a average sized Christmas tree in one corner, a barrier around it in case Lewis decided today was the day he was actually going to crawl (sometimes he managed to get quite a distance anyway), and a moderate pile of presents underneath; most of them were for Lewis. Gillian was playing Christmas music, despite Cal's protest. At least it wasn't some pop album, he had to concede, but classic Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole. Gillian had red candles burning on the coffee table, which was why Cal had to keep Lewis within eyesight and arm's length. But also, he was keeping Lewis away from Gillian for the agreed upon half hour, so she could get ready and finish lunch and just have some space. Lewis was at the age where his number one preferred person was his mother and he hated to be away from her. Especially when he was miserable with his teeth pushing through his soft gums.

Cal sat in his arm chair, shifting Lewis to his lap. Lewis could sit up on his own now. Crawling around was his latest challenge. And Cal wanted him to master it before the next doctor's check up so he could silence all the critics. Emily came into the room trailing Ajay behind him. They took seats on the couch.

"So what's new Dad?" Emily started conversation.

"Lewis has a few teeth," Cal told her, because everything revolved around him being a father these days.

"Really?"

Cal shifted Lewis around and exposed the lower central incisors. He was cutting his first upper teeth at the moment. There were two white lumps under the gum where the teeth were hanging out, taunting him until they broke through. Lewis squirmed out of Cal's grasp and almost took a nose dive towards the floor. Cal straightened him up and balanced him on his lap again. "But he's not very happy about it so just ignore the screamin' as much as possible."

"Where's Gill?"

"Gettin' dressed." Cal watched as Ajay studied his surroundings. Beyond their first meeting, Ajay had dropped his hard act; now he almost seemed shy. "You have a good flight down?"

"Yeah, was totally smooth," Emily answered.

"When I heard about the snowstorm I wondaed if you'd get out of Boston."

"So did we," Emily turned to Ajay. He gave a nod in confirmation.

"Where's your family then Ajay?" Cal asked.

"My folks are in Oklahoma."

"They don't mind your not goin' home for the holiday?"

Ajay gave a nonchalant shrug. "I went last year and this year I got a better offer."

Cal felt a surge of a need to pry. But he shut it down. Emily would definitely not be impressed if he started grilling her boyfriend. "What about your Mum?" Cal turned to Emily. "What's she doin' for the holiday?"

"She's going up to New York tomorrow until the New Year and then she'll come home to meet us."

Emily and Ajay were going to Zoe's to see in the New Year.

Gillian came into the room next, saving Cal from having to come up with another topic of conversation. She exchanged greetings, hugged and kissed Emily and then Ajay. Lewis, spotting her immediately, started squirming around on Cal's lap and calling out until she turned to pick him up. Cal checked the clock on the mantle surreptitiously. He had lasted forty minutes.

"So how are you?" Gillian asked with genuine interest, moving towards the other armchair and settling Lewis in her lap.

**PJ**

"I'm so glad Emily came," Gillian told Cal as he brushed his teeth.

"Uh huh," Cal answered in his throat, his mouth full of foaming toothpaste.

"And Ajay," she rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades. "I'm really glad you invited the both of them."

Cal spat. "Me too." He took a mouthful of water to rinse out.

"He's a very sweet young man."

"Mm," Cal answered as he swirled the liquid around his teeth.

"Wanna know what 'Ajay' stands for?"

Cal nodded vigorously and spat out again.

"Alan Jay."

"What does the 'jay' stand for?"

"Nothing. It's just 'Jay'."

"No wonda he shortens it," Cal dried his hands on a small towel and wiped around his lips to dry them too. Gillian moved into the bedroom and Cal followed.

"Wanna know what else I found out?" Gillian asked as she pulled down the blankets on the bed to climb in. Cal hit the overhead lights throwing the room in to warm orange of the bedside lamp and shadows.

"Of course," he told her, rounding the bed. "Do spill."

"His parents are Seventh Day Adventists; lived their whole lives out in Oklahoma, been married for twenty five years."

"Twenty five years?" Cal was surprised. "They must have started young."

Gillian nodded. "He has an older sister who's married, baby number two on the way and an older brother, who served in Iraq."

"Where's the brutha now?"

"He didn't come back."

"Oh," Cal felt a hollow of sadness in his chest. "Poor kid." Gillian settled under the covers and reached out for her light. Cal continued to watch her. "That's it?"

"Yes," Gillian told him closing her eyes. "Give me a break, he's only been here half a day."

"How is it that you're allowed to pry and it means you're showin' an interest, and I pry, and I'm pryin'?"

Gillian gave him an amused shrug.

"That's not an ansa," Cal complained.

**PJ**

"All right, Daddy's here," Cal leaned down to pick Lewis up out of the crib. Lewis's cries settled into whimpers. Cal put Lewis onto his hip and crossed to the curtains to pull them back. "Shall we change your nappy and get you dressed?" He moved towards the changing table, grabbing something to occupy the boy's hands. Lewis was quiet while Cal changed him and he wondered if his cries had woken his sister. It might be Boxing Day, a holiday for most people, but Lewis didn't observe those rules. Cal pulled Lewis gently up into a sitting position. "How are your teeth today?" He pulled Lewis's upper lip back. "Show Daddy?" Lewis grumbled and shifted his head out of his father's grasp but Cal had seen. They hadn't cut through the gum yet.

Cal took Lewis to the kitchen and put him in his highchair. "Hungry?" Cal asked him. Lewis banged the top of the high chair tray with an open palm. "What do you want for breakfast? Fruit? Cereal? Left ovas?" Cal poured himself a cup of coffee. The kitchen floor was cold against his bare feet.

"Ah!" Lewis called.

"You're right. Your mum wouldn't let me give you left ovas for breakfast." Cal sipped his drink, eyeing up his son from across the room. "And afta the mess you left me to clean up this mornin' I'd say you could do with some roughage."

"Ba, ba ba!" Lewis told him.

"Yeah, it was nasty," Cal agreed. "Probably should have opened the window in your room before we left and closed the door." Cal put his coffee down and reached for a mug to pour for Gillian. She was awake when he left the bedroom. He left a sizable gap for milk and crossed to the fridge. Lewis fell quite behind him and Cal was suddenly aware of rain against the roof.

"Good morning," Ajay greeted.

Cal turned quickly, startled. "Good mornin'." Ajay stuffed is hands in his jeans. "There's coffee ova there," Cal offered.

"Thanks," Ajay crossed to the pot. Cal directed him to mugs and passed over the milk once he had finished with it.

"You're up early. Did Lewis wake you?"

"Yeah and probably cos I'm not used to being here."

"Oh strange house?" Cal asked.

"Yeah."

"Fair enough. Help yourself to whateva you wanna eat. If you can fit anythin' in afta yestaday." Cal eyed up Ajay's slim figure.

"I'll eat with Emily when she gets up," Ajay declined politely.

"Speakin' of which, I betta go deliva this," Cal reached for Gillian's coffee. "I'll be back in a minute," Cal indicated Lewis.

"Take your time, I can look after him."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I have a nephew so I'm good around babies."

Cal watched his face to make sure that was true. "All right then, cheers!"

Gillian had her eyes closed when Cal came into the room. He clicked the door shut behind him with a bare foot and waved her mug of coffee under her nose before setting it on the table beside the bed; if she was still awake, she would smell it. He made space and put his down too as Gillian started to stir. She cracked eyes open at him as he reached for the covers and told her to move over. He slipped in beside her, careful to keep his feet well away from her. She settled against his chest, pressing her cheek against it. "You're cold," she mumbled.

"Yeah," Cal agreed, rubbing his feet against the sheets to try and warm them up.

"Did I hear Lewis awake?"

"You did. I found a babysitta so we can have a few minutes peace to ourselves."

"Mmm," Gilliam hummed her approval. "Emily?"

"Ajay," Cal corrected.

"Mmm," Gillian mumbled her delight again.

"You know, Em volunteered a bit of baby sittin' while she was here."

"Uh huh," Gillian pressed herself tighter against him. "I can smell coffee."

"We could take advantage of that," Cal suggested.

"Coffee," Gillian repeated. She pulled away from him and peered over his torso.

"Maybe go out for dinna or somethin'," Cal continued.

Gillian sat up further and reached across him. The motion shifted Cal on to his back. Gillian leaned on his ribs while she sipped her coffee. "Ah, that's better."

"Are you listenin' to me?"

"Yes, you said Ajay was looking after Lewis."

Cal gave her a deadpan expression. "And what else did I say?"

Gillian's eyes shifted around the roof while she though. "I can't remember."

Cal groaned.

"I was half asleep!" Gillian sipped her coffee again, put the mug back and shifted so she was curled into the crook of his arm. She rested her chin on his shoulder to look into his face. "I'm listening now."

"I was sayin' Em volunteered to babysit for us."

"Oh, that's nice."

"And I was askin' if you wanted to take her up on that?"

Gillian's forehead creased into a small frown. "I don't know. I mean, I'd love to go out alone, but I don't know if we can leave Lewis with her."

"Because?" Cal asked, already guessing the answer.

"Lewis is teething, he's not in a good space right now. And no offence to Emily but she's inexperienced around babies."

"Yeah, fair point."

"Take a rain check though," Gillian suggested. She ran a hand down his t-shirt clad abdomen. "Because we definitely need some time alone."

Cal gave her slightly raised eyebrows. "Oh, so it's not just me then?"

Gillian gave a cautious smile. "No, it's not just you."


	37. Chapter 37

"Are you awake?"

"Hmm?" Cal asked his mind slipping out of a dreamy dozy state to becoming aware.

"I said," Gillian's voice got closer. "Are you awake?"

Cal suddenly felt her hand on his chest. Then her lips against his cheek. "You smell like mint," Cal told her.

"I just went to check on Lewis. He's still asleep."

"Mm," Cal murmured.

"So..."

"So what?"

"You know _what_," Gillian's voice dropped down into a murmur. Her fingers trailed over his stomach. She kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'm wondering if you're awake," she whispered. She pressed her body closer against him and started placing little kisses near his ear while her hand shifted lower and lower. "I can feel that you are."

"Ugh," Cal groaned. He turned over slightly. Gillian connected her mouth against his. "What a delightful way to be woken up."

"For once," Gillian added.

Cal kissed her deeply. "Mm hmm," he murmured. He placed a hand under her shirt, brushing over the soft skin of her back as he turned against her even more, pressing his body against hers so she turned over onto her back. He placed kisses under her chin. Gillian pushed his underwear down. "Straight to business then huh?"

"You know we're on a time limit."

"Doesn't mean we have to rush it," Cal told her gently. He kissed her deeply, slowly, so that when he pulled away again she was breathless.

"No," she whispered.

"No don't rush it or no don't stop?" Cal asked lightly.

"Um," Gillian responded while Cal buried his face into her neck, teasing her skin with his mouth.

And then they heard a noise that froze both of them.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" Gillian groaned loudly, using the same complaint Cal had used last night when they had put Lewis to bed and started fooling around only to have Lewis start calling out. They had tried ignoring him but then he had started crying and Gillian had caved and gotten out of bed. She had promised him a rain check. And now it was raining on their rain check.

"It was always gonna be risky in the mornin'," Cal told her neutrally shifting away and onto his back again. Gillian rolled out of bed for the second time that morning. "I'm gonna have a cold showa." Gillian shot him an apologetic expression from the doorway.

**PJ**

"What's that!" Gillian pointed at him in accusation.

"What?" Cal stopped walking.

"That's your 'morning after' strut."

Cal gave her an amused expression as he started heading across the kitchen again. "My what?"

"You heard me," Gillian narrowed her eyes at him. "What were you doing in the shower?"

Cal thought about lying but she had clearly already guessed. He rolled his eyes dramatically instead, "Relievin' the pressure."

"Cal!"

"What? Is that not allowed?"

"It's just..."

"You can't tell me you neva."

"I don't!" Gillian said forcefully.

Cal pointed a finger. "Lie-a, lie-a." He got closer. "Do you play with yourself too? Cos that makes me feel funny inside. In a good way."

Gillian batted his finger away. "I don't."

That was the truth. "But..." Cal teased. Gillian's cheeks actually went a little red. "Not every day? Every week? Once a month? Once a year? Since we've been married?" Cal paused, seeing her answer. "Since we've been married. Really? When was that?"

"You're wrong," Gillian told him haughtily. "Since we've been _together_."

"That's a long time," Cal was impressed. His track record wasn't quite as good.

Gillian didn't respond, she gave Lewis another spoonful of what looked like mashed up peaches. The mush was a pale orange colour.

"You're allowed. I quite like the idea of that," Cal teased again. He took a seat, lounged back in it and swung his crossed ankles up to a chair next to him. He could see the sudden tense way she held her shoulders.

"I don't."

"Why not?" Cal was genuinely surprised, while realising he had stumbled into a sensitive conversation.

"Because you're enough for me. I would like to think I'm enough for you too."

"You are enough for me!" Cal gave her wide eyes. "It's just a bit frustratin' at the moment, you know." Lewis squealed. "At least he's in a good mood," Cal noted.

Gillian sighed. "I know exactly what you mean." She looked up at him with clear blue eyes. "It's becoming a problem isn't it?"

"Well, before Lewis we had sex very regularly and now that Lewis cramps our style, it's a lot less frequent."

"But it's becoming a problem isn't it?" Gillian asked again, more forcefully.

"If I agree, am I gonna sound like one of them husbands that's demandin' sex from their wives?"

"No, if you agree, then I know we're in the same boat and we can work out how we're going to fix it."

"You want to make a plan?"

"Yes."

"But our best sex is the spontaneous kind."

Gillian sighed. She gave Lewis the spoon and sat back in her chair. "I know. But what else are we going to do? I'm open to suggestions."

"Well, I agree," Cal answered her question. "It is becomin' a problem. For you as much as for me, by the look of it."

Gillian's cheeks went a little red again. She nodded. Cal gave a slight smirk. How nice that his wife wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

"As for what to do? I dunno," Cal gave a slight shrug. "Kinda hard to dump Lewis on someone else when he hates bein' away from you for two minutes and screams bloody murda."

"How about during his afternoon nap? It's not spontaneous but..."

"It's betta than nothin'," Cal finished.

**PJ**

Doctor Adler noted Lewis's height down on his notes. "He's growing at a good rate."

Gillian felt the nervous flutter of butterflies in her stomach. It wasn't Lewis's height and weight she worried about but when Adler asked if Lewis was crawling or talking or feeding himself yet. It was these things that Lewis didn't have a grasp on. According to the books, Lewis should be able to move around on his stomach, pull himself up on furniture, feed himself with his hands and string together consonants into multiple syllabic strings. At nine months old he was supposed to be saying simple words like 'ma' and 'da'.

Physically, Lewis was fine; growing just how he should be. But mentally, Doctor Adler was not confident and Gillian wasn't sure. It made her want to cry but she held it together until she got out to the car. Once she was behind the driver's seat she felt the sting of tears she had been fighting back for weeks, maybe even months. Cal didn't like it when she cried. And he didn't like it when she worried so much and if she was being honest with herself, she had been trying to hold it all in. But screw it. She was upset and Cal made her feel better and it wasn't like she was trying to protect him by not crying in front of him. More than anything, she had been trying to convince herself that she was ok, that Lewis was ok, that everything was ok.

"All right darlin'?" Cal answered breezily. "How'd the doc go?"

"Lewis is fine."

"Are you cryin'?" His voice was suddenly low and serious. "What happened? Where are you? Want me to come and get you?"

"No, I'm ok, I'm just..."

"Docta Adla bein' hard on Lewis again?"

"He's not being hard on him," Gillian tried to counter, feeling the strangest desire to defend the paediatrician.

"Where are you sweetheart?" Cal asked again, gently, coaxing. "Are you home?"

"Not yet."

"Come here, to me," he spoke so softly Gillian found herself agreeing. Cal hung up on her, telling her he would see her soon, no room for argument. Gillian slipped her phone onto the passenger seat. She checked Lewis over her shoulder. He was gumming a plastic toy attached to his car seat with a length of cord. Gillian wiped her tears away as she pulled out of the doctor's car park.

Cal was in the lab analysing video with Ria when Gillian arrived. The last thing she wanted to do was announce to their entire staff that she was upset, so she took Lewis through to Cal's office and sent him a text to let him know she was there. He was slamming his office door closed a minute later. He walked right up to her, close, into her personal space. Gillian had long ago lost the urge to back up. Cal gave her a concerned study. "What'd Adla say then?"

"Lewis is slow to develop."

Cal waved the comment away. "He always says that. What about the rest of it?"

Gillian gave a half shrug. "He's tall enough, is putting on weight fine. His teeth look good."

"Well that's good," Cal gave her an optimistic expression, but it seemed a little forced around the edges. And Gillian didn't feel his enthusiasm. Cal suddenly slipped her hands into his and gave her fingers a squeeze. "The developmental stuff, it bothas you yeah?"

Gillian nodded. Brain damage in the back of her mind. Suddenly two of her least favourite words.

"We can always get a second opinion."

Gillian gave him raised eyebrows.

"Babies develop at their own rate. Em wouldn't say more than two words until she was two and now look at her!"

Gillian attempted a smile.

"But, you know, we can get anotha opinion if you don't like what Docta Adla has to say."

"You have a problem with what Doctor Adler has to say."

"He's a bit sanctimonious."

Gillian smiled slightly at his choice of word. "Sanctimonious? He's just doing his job. He's been with us from the start."

Doctor Adler was the paediatrician on call when Gillian was giving birth.

"But that doesn't mean he's the best kiddie docta eva," Cal countered.

Gillian suspected Cal was trying to make her laugh. She tried to shrug off the heavy feeling in her shoulders, just so she could stop Cal from giving her that worried expression. Cal's eyes shifted to questioning. "Up to you, luv. You wanna stick with him that's fine. Maybe I should come to the next check up."

"I would actually like that," Gillian half sighed.

"I would've come to this one."

"You're busy," Gillian pointed out. "And it was important for you to be here." She paused, realising. "In fact, you should really get back to it."

"It can wait."

"Actually it can't," she pulled out of his grip. "You need to focus. The trial is less than a month away. We can talk later."

"Leave Lewis," Cal told her quickly as she turned away to pick up his car seat.

"What did I just say about you needing to focus?" Gillian asked him lightly.

Cal gave her a slight upturn of his lips: amusement. "You get him all day." He reached for her hands again. "Why don't you go home, alone. Have a bath. Read a book. Relax. Lewis and I can hang out for a few hours. He's a good excuse to go home early."

Gillian gave another slight smile. "An excuse for you or me?"

"You," Cal gave a facetious smile, his blue eyes sparkled. "That way, you'll know I can't possibly stay here until midnight."

"So tempting," Gillian sighed.

"Do it," Cal raised her hands and kissed the back of them. "I'll come home and expect to find you in the bath."

"You wish," Gillian shot at him. Cal grinned. Gillian put her arms around his shoulders, gave him a kiss and was comforted by the weight of his arms on her back. He gave her a squeeze and kissed her temple. Ok, that felt really good too. Gillian pulled away. "Ok."

Cal gave her a triumphant smile.

**PJ**

"Hi!" Kate opened the door with a smile. "Hi Lewis."

"I owe you one," Cal handed over the boy. He followed Kate into the house.

"And we'll be taking you up on it," Matthew told him. He was watching TV with Max on the floor in front of him.

"You're going to pick him up...?" Kate prompted.

"No late-a than eight," Cal told her, dropping Lewis's bag of supplies on the floor. Kate put Lewis down on the floor next to Max. Max eyed him up. Lewis, oblivious, put a fist in his mouth. "Just need a few hours to sort a few things out."

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah, just getting ready for the trial," Cal lied easily.

"Oh yeah, when's that again?" Matthew asked him, prying his eyes away from the screen.

"Three weeks," Cal informed him. An awkward silence ensued. "All right then. Anytime," he meant the return babysitting. "Thanks again," he told Kate at the door. Then he raced home. Gillian better be in the damn bath. He was going to have to endure several hours of _Hannah Montana_ with Gillian's nieces in exchange for three hours of Lewis free time.

The house was quiet when Cal stepped inside. He started his walk through in the living room, then moved on to the dining room and the kitchen. She wasn't in any of those rooms so Cal considered that a good start. He noted the kitchen was warm and smelt like baked cheese and there were dishes in the sink waiting to be stacked in the dishwasher.

"Cal!?"

Guest bathroom. The room with the bath in it. Cal made a bee line. He knocked and then pushed the door open to enter. Gillian looked up at him from a mound of bubbles. "Oh you are home."

"I am."

"Where's Lewis?"

"Kate's," Cal lowered the lid on the toilet seat and sat, stretching his ankles out in front of him. He wondered if there was any way this bathroom could be considered symbolic; could he suggest they had come full circle? The shattering news when they thought she hadn't been pregnant with Lewis, and now a difficult conversation about his developmental potential? Cal shrugged it off while Gillian gave him a deep frown.

"He's at Kate's?"

"Yep."

"My Kate?'

"How many Kate's do you know?" Cal asked genuinely interested to see if there was more than one significant in Gillian's life.

"Why is he at Kate's?"

"She's babysittin' so we can talk about him in peace."

Gillian looked as though she wanted to object. Her bubble coated hands appeared over the edge of the tub and she sat up higher in the water.

"Didn't wanna talk about him with him in the next room," Cal explained. "That's rude."

Gillian gave him an annoyed smile. "Are we going to continue the conversation from this afternoon?"

Cal nodded. Gillian watched him. "Oh you want me to go first?" Cal asked innocently. Gillian nodded solemnly. "I've said it before darlin' but I'll say it again." Because she seemed to be having a hard time getting a grip on it. "Lewis will develop at his own rate. It pisses me off that his docta keeps writin' him off. We don't know that he has brain damage from the birth. We can always get a second opinion. In the meantime, I'd ratha not let it plague us. And you gotta stop feelin' guilty. It's not your fault. These things happen; you're not to blame."

"I can't help it," tears welled up her eyes.

Cal suppressed a sigh. He had all the patience in the world for Gillian and Lewis, but he could feel the crawl of frustration creeping into his arms. He got up and moved so he was sitting on the cold floor next to the bath. He settled next to it so he was leaning against the side, facing her, one hand trailing in the warm water. She must have been in the bath for a while, otherwise it would be much hotter. "Sweetheart, look at me." Gillian wiped a tear away and fixed watery blue eyes on him. "What happened with Lewis durin' his birth, was an accident. It was not your fault." Gillian wiped another errant tear away. "Do I have to make you repeat it afta me or are you gonna believe me this time?"

Gillian gave a short laugh. "I'll believe you."

Cal swam his hand through the water to her arm, satisfying his need to touch her in some way while they were in the same room. He trailed fingers along her skin. "Are you gonna stop beatin' yourself up about it?"

Gillian nodded.

"You're gonna move forward from here?"

Gillian nodded again.

"For Lewis's sake?'

Gillian nodded vigorously.

"You know, no one's gonna come and take Lewis away from us."

Gillian froze.

Cal watched her carefully. "You're a good mutha and there is no one to change their minds on this. Lewis is ours. He's here to stay."

A lone tear tracked its way down her cheek. They both knew exactly what he was talking about. Sophie. Gillian carried around her own set of past hurts. Not her ex-husband, interestingly, but her ex-daughter. That one still haunted her. And in that moment she understood and Cal didn't have to say anything more on the subject. He could empathise with her pain but they both knew she had to let it go now. Soothe it with a new balm. A balm called Lewis.

"Need anymore convincin'?"

Gillian shook her head.

"You wouldn't lie to me would you?" Cal asked innocently.

Gillian shook her head vigorously.

"Good girl," Cal gave her arm a gentle squeeze. Her face had told him 'yes' as well. "All right then, if that's outta the way. What do you want to do about Docta Adla?"

"Stay with him. He's been with Lewis from the start and that actually gives me some comfort."

"And if he starts yammerin' on about Lewis's milestones?"

"Try not to worry about it."

Cal fixed her with a firm expression.

"Don't worry about it," Gillian corrected.

Cal gave her a smile. "Great. Two for two. What about the developmental stuff?"

"I don't know what to say about that," Gillian admitted meekly.

"You're worried?" Gillian nodded. "I worry too," Cal admitted. "But I'd like to give the little guy the benefit of the doubt."

"I want that," Gillian agreed.

"We'll spend extra time with him, encouragin' him to talk and crawl around and stuff," Cal suggested at a guess. "If he needs extra help at school we'll make sure he gets it."

Gillian nodded.

"Now, I have to ask you one more thing."

Gillian's expression turned into pensive curiosity. Cal took a second to gather his thoughts. This was going to be a tough one. "You've been cryin' a lot lately and I know some of it's because you've had a baby and there are hormones involved and all that. But I worry. Is it somethin' more? Somethin' out of your control?"

Gillian was surprised by his words. He could see that on her face. And then he caught a glimmer of something in her eye that told him she understood even as she asked, "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talkin' about," Cal watched her face carefully. There was that little glimmer again. "Are you simply worried about Lewis? Or are you inexplicably tired, emotional, 'down'." He hooked his fingers into rabbit ears. It didn't cease to amuse him that he couldn't actually say the words.

Gillian watched him impassively for a second. Then her expression almost seemed resigned. "I just worry about Lewis."

"And you feel guilty," Cal pounced despite himself. No matter what, talking about depression, his mother's, his, Gillian's, made him uncomfortable beyond belief. Guilt he could deal with. Depression scared him out of his skin.

"Of course I feel guilty," Gillian agreed softly. "If my blood pressure hadn't dropped, the cord wouldn't have collapse and Lewis..."

"That was completely out of your control," Cal jumped in, relieved to see she was talking about the truth. "We don't know why your blood pressure dropped. It was just one of those things."

"But if it hadn't..."

"Considerin' it could have been so much worse," Cal paused to make sure she understood the full impact. He could have been killed and missed the birth completely. Lewis could have died. Gillian could have died. And that was just the worst case scenario.

"That's true," Gillian agreed quietly. There was a moment's silence. Cal swam his fingers through the water again, suspecting it had gotten even colder. "I never used to be this insecure."

"Well, havin' kids will do that to you," Cal noted.

"I envy you though."

Cal raised his eyebrows at her; pure amusement.

"For having another kid."

Cal hesitated. "Is that because I have two kids and you only have one?"

Gillian gave a little twitch of an amused smile. "No. Because you're always so sure of what you're doing."

Cal shook his head. "I don't know what I'm doin'. I'm just guessin' based on a past experience."

"At least you have that."

"You worry too much," Cal announced. A chicken started clucking from behind him. He turned, startled.

Gillian laughed. "That's my fifteen minute warning to get out of the bath before dinner is ready."

Cal got up and reached for a towel to dry off his dripping hand.

"When is Lewis coming back?" Gillian asked pulling the plug.

"I said I'd go pick him up in a few hours."

Gillian nodded. "So, is this kind of like date night?"

Cal held out her towel for her. He gave her a brilliant grin and Gillian smiled in return.


	38. Chapter 38

_AN: M rated. _

**PJ**

Cal stood in the kitchen doorway and watched his wife at the bench. She was in casual jeans and a loose fitting shirt; bare feet and arms. Her hair was damp in places where it had trailed in the bath and was now in casual waves as it dried naturally without her straightening it. She was making a salad to accompany the pasta bake that the chicken had lured her out of the bath for. Cal had gone to take a phone call in the living room and had came back to find her dressed and in the kitchen. It was a little disappointing.

"I can feel you watching me," Gillian suddenly said without turning around.

Cal swung through the doorway and approached behind her. The pasta bake was resting on a chopping board next to where she was working. The smell of garlic and cheese was strong in the air. Cal wasn't quite sure what drew him across the room, the food, or his wife. He approached behind her, admiring the curve of her neck while out of the corner of his eye, he noted the time. Plenty of time.

"What are you doing?" Gillian asked, breaking the silence that had thickened the longer Cal studied her.

"Nothin'," Cal murmured reaching out a hand to trail fingertips along her soft skin.

Gillian ignored him. "Are you hungry?"

"For you? Yep."

Gillian turned on the spot. She wore an amused grin. "That was cheesy and it wasn't quite what I meant."

Cal stepped up close to her and she took a half step backwards, resting on her heel as she leaned against the bench, her hands gripping the edge of it tightly. Cal got closer still, until his thighs were brushing against hers. He liked the way Gillian's eyes travelled to his mouth and she hitched her breath in slightly. He waited. He wondered what she would do next.

"Dinner?" Gillian offered meekly.

Cal softened his gaze. "You're really gonna offa me dinna when we have an hour and a half of Lewis free time?"

Gillian looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'd love to make you work for it right now, you know how I like to tease, but you're right," she leaned in close to him, so their torsos connected, their chests. "We don't have time."

Cal grinned lasciviously a split second before Gillian's lips crashed into his. Her arms tightened around his neck, pressing in closer against him. Cal's hands automatically fell into place on her back; one upper, one lower. Gillian kissed him in a hungry way; her mouth hard but hot and her tongue firm, demanding. It made Cal feel weak in the knees, slightly lightheaded and desperate for more. So, so desperate.

Cal pressed into her until she was leaning against the bench again. Her body felt warm through her shirt and she kissed him so passionately he felt the need to outdo her. They kissed harder and dug at each other's skin until they were gasping for air and Gillian shoved him away with a: "Bloody hell Cal!"

Cal took a few steps backwards and shot her a dark look. "I love it when you speak British to me." He crossed the space again as Gillian pushed herself off the bench. They crashed into each other in half the distance, their arms wrapping around each other, their bodies pressing against each other tightly, their lips smothering each other. Gillian let out a little moan. Cal found a pounding in his groin that just begged to be released and he wondered how Gillian's body reacted to him. If they way she tugged his clothes off him was anything to go by, then she was just as frantic for him as he was for her.

As Gillian heaved his shirt off over his head she pressed him backwards, until he was taking blind steps in reverse. His backside hit the edge of the breakfast island and Cal took that opportunity to turn on her. He spun her around so she was backing out of the room and pulled her shirt roughly over her head. He threw it against the wall and in that moment Gillian grabbed at the top of his jeans and started pulling him towards her while unbuttoning them at the same time.

"Speaking British huh?" Gillian asked him as their arms fought over each other to undress as fast as possible.

"Yeah, it's fascinatin'."

"Fascinating?"

"You're fascinatin'."

They reached their bed room and banged the door back against the wall as they barged through it. Gillian had her hands in his pants as they crossed the room, almost stumbling as they tripped over clothes and limbs and agonising lust. Gillian laughed as her knees hit the bed and folded as she fell, pulling Cal down with her. She kissed Cal again, some of her fiery fury gone. "What are we rushing for?" She asked breathlessly. "Didn't you say you're going to pick Lewis up at eight?"

Cal covered her mouth with his but while he throbbed with wanting her, and her slim fingers were doing dangerous things, like pushing away his underwear, the kiss was tender, hot, wet, slow, provocative. "You want it slow darlin'?"

"Oh god," Gillian moaned, squirming a little where she lay under him. "You know how I like it Cal." She fixed dark blue eyes pointedly on him. Cal gazed down at her, supporting his weight on his arms, his hips pressing against her waist. He watched as her cheeks crept slowly red. "What do you see when you look at me like that?" Gillian asked softly.

"I see the love of my life," Cal told her the truth with unwavering pale blue eyes. "That is what is so fascinatin', by the way."

"I don't know which comment to react to first."

Cal gave her a lazy grin. He shifted away from her reach so he could shift her jeans down over her hips and thighs. Gillian propped herself up on her elbows while she watched him kick his underwear away and then crouch on the floor in front of her. His hands gently parted her thighs and his head descended.

"Wow!" Gillian's hips bucked involuntarily. "While I love how good you are with your mouth," she breathed. "Explain to me what do you mean by fascinating?" When Cal simply responded with a lazy turn of his tongue that almost made her knee him in the side of the head, Gillian drew fingers through his hair and gave a tug. "Cal! I'm serious! Tell me!" She heard him chuckle and he teased her again, his hand snaking up to pry her hand loose. He locked their fingers together and held them tightly. She felt his lips, tongue, teeth against her, purposeful in their casualness. The waves of sensations stilled the words in her mouth until she got used to them. "Cal," she breathed holding his hand tighter. "You're the love of my life too."

Cal pulled away for just a second, just enough to murmur a 'thank you' before he resumed. The sweetness of his gratitude warmed Gillian's cheeks and made her chest heave. They might not be having a lot of frequent sex, like they used to pre-Lewis, but the sex they had now was not only precious because if its rarity, but because, for whatever reason, Cal expressed himself so vividly. The wild passion from the kitchen contrasted against this gentle coaxing in such a delicious way Gillian was writhing against the mattress easily. And even as she was basking in the aftermath, feeling wonderful and thinking about how her life had delivered Cal to her, he trailed kisses along her thigh and then over hips, her waist, up the curve of her chest, over her breasts to her neck and finally her swollen lips.

Gillian applied pressure until Cal turned over onto his back. She straddled over his hips and kissed him delicately, feeling a little like the room was spinning, that maybe she had fallen down the rabbit hole. How was it he made her fall in love with him a little more as the months went by; as they year's crawled by day by day? "Tell me," she whispered against his lips before drawing them out into a hot kiss.

"Can't very well talk with your tongue in my mouth," Cal pointed out lightly.

Gillian slapped at his chest playfully. He gave her a grin, his pale eyes had gone dark and she could feel how hard he was underneath her. Gillian slid off him again, loving the friction of their skin against each other. She leaned her chest against him, hooked her leg over his thigh, and slid a hand over his hips to his groin. Cal let out a low moan and gasped in the next breath. "How about now?" Gillian asked him, feeling the look of pleasure on his face make her hot inside. "Can you tell me now?"

"Bit distracted."

"I can stop," Gillian stilled her hand slowly, adopting a very innocent tone of voice.

Cal's eyes flew open as his head turned towards her. "Don't stop," he told her.

"So tell me," Gillian demanded.

"What was I gonna tell you?"

"Why I'm so fascinating."

"Oh _that_," Cal's voice hitched on the last word as Gillian slid her fingers over him again. "I love to watch you luv. The beautiful curve of your face, the way your lips part slightly when you're excited about somethin'. The delight of you bein' with Lewis. I love seein' how you react to life. I love hearin' what you have to say about somethin'. You know why I used to be such an idiot around you?"

"Playground antics?"

Cal turned his head to watch her again. "Yeah that and I hadn't figad out that it was a far betta reaction when you knew for sure I was in love with _you,_" Cal's voice hitched again. Gillian knew she was close to driving him over the edge, which was fine for him, but not for her. She wasn't finished with him yet. Gillian leaned forward to kiss him. Cal shifted over her, pressing her back against the mattress. His hands were firm on her skin and she could feel him grinding his hips against her. She shifted her body, opened her thighs to him. He drove into her, the sheer raw hunger taking over for a second before the rationality of time and a much deeper connection took over.

They moved against each other, setting up a steady drive that intensified as their desire did. The rocket that shot through Gillian just about lifted her off the bed. She buried her face into Cal's shoulder and listened to the ragged draw of his breath, felt the hot dampness of his skin against her own and experienced the tension of his muscles as he drew his pleasure out of her.

"Oh god," Gillian breathed as she dropped back against the bed.

"Nah, but I reckon I'm close," Cal quipped. Gillian, with her eyes closed, blindly batted at him. Her hand connected with his shoulder just before he moved away from her. She heard his amused laugh. "Tell me again."

"Tell you what?" Gillian feigned a grump. When she felt this gooey good it wasn't feasible to be grumpy with him.

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you Cal." She opened her eyes to find his blues peering at her.

"What if it was a toss-up between me and chocolate?"

Gillian laughed. "Don't make me choose between two great loves."

"That was a deflection," Cal accused.

"I'd choose the chocolate," Gillian answered him.

Cal studied her for a split second and broke into a grin almost simultaneously. "Lie-a lie-a," he sing-songed. Gillian giggled. Cal groaned. "You know that only makes me want you more right?"

"Right," Gillian agreed with a slight nod and a confident smile.


	39. Chapter 39

Cal pulled his jeans up to his hips but didn't button them. From behind him, he could hear Gillian sniffle. He ignored her and concentrated on getting dressed. He couldn't decide if he was nervous or anxious or calm or tired. Cal reached for his shirt. It was hanging over the end of the bed and he turned to see Gillian watching him, her head propped up on an elbow, her nose and eyes red. Cal felt a little bit sorry for her. She sniffed again, wiped at her nose. Cal slipped the shirt over his arms and settled it on his shoulders, while watching her, waiting for her to speak first. Lewis snuffled in his sleep on the mattress next to his mother, breaking the silence.

"You know you don't _have_ to go," Gillian finally spoke.

"I want to be there," Cal responded starting on the buttons of his shirt. It was black and his jeans a deep dark blue. He wasn't going to wear a tie because he didn't want to be too formal. He had to give the impression of a groomed, casual professional; a tidy, respectable family man. He was supposed to be likeable, relatable. "I want to see it all."

Gillian nodded wiped her nose again. "I wish I was going with you."

"You can't," Cal reminded her. "You're sick." He finished with his shirt and tucked it in loosely before doing his jeans up. "Sure you don't want me to take Lewis?"

"You can't take a baby to court," Gillian pointed out, her voice slightly blocked up by the mucous in her throat. A cold. A wholly mother of a cold had descended on her two days ago. Cal, who had never cared before whether he got sick or not, loaded up on vitamin C and echinacea so he also didn't get ill. Brandon Mitchell's trial started today and he was serious in saying he wanted to see it all. He wanted to hear every word the defence lawyer had to say and he wanted to see every reaction Mitchell gave. He even had Loker come to record it. It wasn't just an exercise in court room antics; this was going to be a personal battle between Lightman and Mitchell. They were currently one all. Only one of them was going to be leaving the court room a free man and Cal was doggedly determined it be him. He was going to read the jury, he was going to play them and the defence lawyer, the judge, the prosecution team; he would play everybody to get what he wanted. He wanted his own revenge. He wanted Mitchell behind bars. He wanted that bastard to feel what it was like to be captive.

"Will you come home straight afterward?" Gillian asked softly.

Cal ran the towel through his hair roughly to mostly dry it. "Probably go to the office," he explained. "So I can look at the footage."

Gillian nodded. "Call me later then."

"Of course," Cal responded while running his fingers through his short strands to guide them back into place. Gillian coughed lightly and then blew her nose gently. Cal turned to her, his arms spread. "How do I look?"

"Great," she gave him a smile.

"Relatable?"

"Absolutely."

"You're slightly biased," Cal pointed out with a half smile. He stooped to retrieve his damp towel and threw it from the doorway into the hamper in the bathroom.

"Because you're my husband?"

"Because we're sleepin' togetha."

Gillian smiled.

"Can I get you anythin' before I leave?"

Gillian shook her head. "I'll probably go back to sleep."

"All right darlin'," Cal leaned down to give her cheek a kiss. "I hope you feel betta. I'll get more tissues on my way home."

Gillian gave him a forced smile this time and Cal could see the worry start to creep in around the edges of her eyes. It was for him, the worry, she was trying not think about him slipping back into a dark place while the trial was on, or even when it was over. Gillian had been travelling a rocky road when it came to Lewis and Cal when it came to Brandon Mitchell. Gillian had put her troubles to rest. Cal was about to do the same. At least, in a few days when the trial was over, he could put it to rest.

Cal drove down to the courthouse, had to park a mile away and then walk back. There was a time when he loved that his name was well known in the city. Not now. Media were parked outside on the steps and Cal barrelled his way through them without comment. His office was being hounded for interviews. At least their home number had remained private. Cal had purposefully avoided newspapers and TV shows for the last week as the build up to the trial began. It wasn't exactly the biggest case with the most interest, but there was enough and he didn't want to be influenced by it. He didn't want to know what public opinion was, he just wanted to know what the opinion of the jury was.

Just like every court house in the country, people milled around everywhere. Men and women in suits, men and women looking worried; one guy stoned out of his mind. Cal kept on moving past them, glancing, noting expressions, filing them away in his mind. Those two were sleeping together. That guy was guiltier than sin. That woman was trying to hide something. Cal took the stairs and found the courtroom. He had been here before. But he had never been so invested in the outcome of a case. He wasn't here to play. He had a lot riding on this.

"Zoe," Cal greeted coming to a halt.

She got up from her chair, looking apologetic. "I hope you don't mind that I'm here. I just wanted to... support you."

Zoe almost always had an ulterior motive. But Cal couldn't see one right now. He shook his head. He didn't mind. Actually, it was a nice gesture and a little comforting to have a friendly face around. He wished Gillian was there but was glad she wasn't. If she was there, he would worry about her too. Loker came around the corner, a padded bag for a handheld recording device over his shoulder.

"You're late," Cal told him.

Loker looked surprised. "I uh, massive crowd out the front."

"Oh really?" Cal asked, feigning surprise.

"The prosecutor's already here."

Cal turned back to Zoe. "Know them?"

"Knapp," Zoe confirmed. "She's good. Hardball."

Cal nodded. He had met Karen Knapp a few days ago while in preparation. She was hard ball but mostly because she was determined for a conviction and in that way, Cal liked her just fine.

Half an hour later they were all settled in their seats and were sitting in a deathly tense silence, waiting for the proceedings to begin. The judge had come in and so had the jury. Cal didn't bother showing up for the jury selection. Ria had helped the prosecution with that despite that it was possibly being a conflict of interest. Cal would look at her analysis afterward, once he was able to compare their interview answers against their reactions from opening statements. He felt a flare of nerves in his stomach. This wasn't about getting Mitchell convicted, well it was, but it was more about Cal winning. He wanted to win this one so badly. He didn't want that bastard to always have one over him. Time to watch and absorb; Cal was going to need it for later.

**PJ**

"Your phone is ringing," Ria pointed out.

Cal stood and pulled it from his pocket. He hadn't heard it. Gillian's name flashed up on the screen. Cal left the room without explaining where he was going. He answered it while on his way to his office. "All right darlin'? How you feelin?"

"Miserable."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"How'd it go today?"

"Just last minute legal bull crap and openin' statements. Nothin' excitin'."

"This is not me dropping any subtle hints, but I was wondering if you planned on being home for dinner, because I'm having toast. You're on your own."

"Oh right then." Cal bumped the screen saver on the computer to check the time. He had left his watch at home, all the better to show off his scars. It was late. "I'll get somethin'." Not that he felt particularly hungry. "And I'll be home for bedtime."

"Too late. I'm already in bed."

"And Lewis?"

"He's watching TV."

"Bit young for that isn't he?"

"Well, he's watching the pictures move around anyway and I'm too tired for entertaining him. His molars are starting to come through."

"Is he cranky?"

"No, just drooling like crazy and his cheeks are red."

"Poor guy."

"Yeah," Gillian agreed in a sigh.

"You need anythin' luv?"

"A new nose. I'm tired of this one already. It's all bunged up but runs constantly at the same time. Its red raw and I have the softest tissues and they're still scratchy," Gillian complained with a sigh.

Cal gave a low chuckle. "If you're good, I might get you one for your birthday."

"That's ages away," Gillian groaned.

Cal heard Lewis squeal loudly in the background. "What's he watchin'?"

"Nickleodeon. I have no idea what. Cartoon of some sort..."

"Sounds entertainin'."

"Oops!" Gillian called to Lewis. "Sit back up. You're going to miss it."

Cal felt a pang of being excluded. The day to day was the best. "I'll see you soon then luv," he said softly.

"Ok," Gillian agreed sounding lighter in tone.

Cal hung up and went back to the lab. Ria was on the phone too. Cal heard her saying she wouldn't be much longer. She had a husband to go home to. '_An hour tops_,' Cal told himself and then he would pry himself away from all that footage too.

**PJ**

"It was vindictive, aggressive, planned and executed with military precision. What's not to take personally?"

He wanted to get angry. He wanted to rage about what a bastard Brandon Mitchell was. But that was not how he was going to win over the jury and make himself a credible witness. He had to play the victim, as much as he despised it. He needed to stay calm about the facts and yet give off an emotional undertone. He needed the jury to see his intelligence as well as his humanity. He needed the jury to know, that not only had he been physically assaulted, but his family had been threatened; his wife, his son, his daughter and to a lesser extent his business, his legacy. Cal had a lot to lose.

Cal glanced over at Mitchell, keeping the movement of his head to a minimum. He didn't want the jury to see him glaring. He just wanted to check Mitchell's reaction. Stony still, but the puff of pride from the first day was gone now. His head was not held as high, his shoulders were no longer relaxed and his hands clasped at each other just a little more tightly. He was showing the smallest hints of worry. Until Cal had taken the stand, he hadn't looked that bothered about being there. But now it was confirmed for Cal that he, personally, really would make or break this trial. Cal had no doubt that he could persuade the jury of Mitchell's guilt. Mitchell's lawyer was not exactly doing a bang up job. There were some massive flaws in their case and Mitchell's lawyer had never come across a witness like Cal before. Hard to trip up the world's leading deception expert.

Mitchell's lawyer, Carter, hesitated slightly in his pace across the front of the prosecution's desk; something only Cal and Loker would notice. The room was deathly quiet, waiting for his next question. Under different circumstances, Cal might have felt sorry for him. He was in over his head and Mitchell couldn't afford better. Under different circumstances, Cal might have felt sorry for Mitchell too. Tense family situation, a lot of anger... if this case hadn't been so personal. Cal could feel his heart rate rising again. He took a slow breath, deep enough to calm himself, not so big the jury would think he was freaking out. He wasn't. Since he had figured out he was the pinnacle of the case, he had actually relaxed. He didn't need analysis to know the jury liked him. He could see sympathy on their faces right now from where he was sitting. There were a few glares of anger in Mitchell's direction; one guy was empathising with Cal with tears in his eyes.

In cases like this, it wasn't so much finding the guilt of the accused. Everyone in that room knew Mitchell had abducted Cal and physically assaulted him on multiple counts, several of which were grievously. What he was pleading not guilty to was jail time. That was what this was about. He wanted to walk out of the courtroom at the end of tomorrow a free man despite it. That's what he was asking of the jury. He was asking them for a pardon. Cal knew all about pardons. He'd had more than his fair share of them over his lifetime. But he liked to think he had never actually caused anybody more than an inconvenience when he'd been acting the fool. He hadn't really ever hurt anybody but himself. But Mitchell wanted to have his cake and eat it too. And that was what pissed Cal off so much. That was what made him bitter towards juries. Way too many miscarriages of justice. The defendant could be guilty as sin and get away with it on a technicality. Who was that protecting?

"You took part in the interviews with my client in the days following his arrest," Carter spoke again.

Cal sat up a little straighter, giving the impression he was listening politely. "Was that a question?" Cal was watching Carter, but he could see the jury shift and smile, almost as a cohesive unit.

"Yes it was a question," Carter deadpanned.

Mistake number four, Cal counted in his head; don't antagonise the victim. The jury didn't like that.

"Yes I did."

"That's a bit unusual, for the alleged victim to interview the suspect they're accusing."

"Objection!" Hardball got to her feet. "There's no alleged victim in this case, Doctor Lightman was abducted outside his home and taken to Delaware where he was subjected to two brutal assaults..."

'_What is with Delaware_?' Cal thought.

"All right Ms Knapp," the judge tried to interrupt.

"His blood is all over the floor in Mr Mitchell's house."

The judge spoke up to cut her off, "We don't need another run down of the facts in this case. Your objection is sustained. Mr Carter will choose his words more carefully." Carter gave a slight nod. Knapp took her seat.

Jury cases were all about the show. They were all acting. But Carter had made another mistake in allowing Ms Knapp a chance to remind the jury of why they were there. And right in the middle of the victim's testimony.

"So why get involved?" Carter picked up his train of thought.

"In the questioning?" Cal asked.

"Yes."

"You do realise it was in my place of business? The questioning."

"Yes," Carter responded.

"And you're aware of what I do for a livin'?"

"Yes I am Doctor Lightman."

Cal gave a slight smile. Good, remind the jury again that he had a doctorate in lies.

"Doctor Lightman," the judge cut in. "You're supposed to be answering the questions, not asking them."

Cal felt the jury smile in amusement again. Gillian would berate him about now. He wasn't supposed to be having fun with this. It was very serious. But Cal couldn't help but feel confident. And it only served to help make the jury like him even more. He had charmed many a jury this way.

"Sorry your hona. Was just tryin' to clarify the situation. Mista Carta asks why I got involved in the questionin' of his client." Cal turned to the jury. "My response is: why wouldn't I? It was in my place of business and I wanted ansas. He wasn't very forth comin'. My wife was in laba." A sympathetic nod from juror's number three and seven. "I was on a time limit and I needed to know why this man had come to my home, drugged me and dragged me away. I think I had that right to ask him why."

Agreeing nods from three, seven, eight, four, two, nine and one.

Carter approached to bring the focus back to him. "I believe Mr Radar of the Radar Firm had been conducting the interview up until that point."

"Now that wasn't a question," Cal pointed out with a smile before Knapp could object again.

Carter almost sighed in frustration and then caught himself. "Why did you take over from Mr Radar?"

"Neva send a boy to do a man's job," Cal gave a brilliant smile.

The jury smiled along with him.

"I'd want the world's leadin' deception expert workin' on my case," Cal explained. "That just happens to be me."

"It's a conflict of interest," Carter pointed out.

"Counsel is editorialising," Ms Knapp objected.

"Mr Carter," the judge warned.

"I don't have any more questions," Carter turned his back on Cal and stalked away.

"Re-direct?" The judge asked Knapp.

"No need," she responded.

'_Don't get too smug_,' Cal thought. While he was confident, and while Carter had screwed his cross examination, juries were funny fish. He was the last witness. Tomorrow would be closing statements. The jury would go home and hopefully think about him. But it only took one to convince the rest of them to change their minds.

**PJ**

"You're gonna be there tomorrow right?" Cal pressed his forehead closer until he had contact.

Gillian smoothed her hand up his arm. "Yes."

"And Lewis."

"I have to wonder if this is part of your game?"

"What's that?" Cal asked, his hand stroking along her waist. "This?"

"No," she breathed. Cal could feel the hot wash of it against his nose. That's how close they were lying together. "Me, Lewis, in the courtroom tomorrow during closing statements. Is it just one more ploy to convince the jury?"

"All of it has been a ploy," Cal told her. He slipped his hand under the fabric of her shirt and brushed over the soft skin of her back. "You know how this game works."

"Which game?" Gillian asked.

Cal smiled and Gillian opened her eyes at him suddenly, looking up at him slightly, she gave a small smile. "Not this game," she ran her fingers down his arm to his wrist, the one under her shirt.

"Don't you want to see him behind bars?"

"Of course I do."

"But?"

"No, no buts."

Cal pulled away a little to see her face. "Come on then," he coaxed.

"I would just hate to think that this was _all_ a game to you."

"It's not a game. I'm playin' the game to get what I want. I'm not doin' it for pleasure."

"But you get a little pleasure out of it?"

"Of course I do. You know how I like to play," Cal shifted his hand around her ribs, brushing along the edge of her breast.

Gillian half laughed. "So what happens if the jury doesn't convict him?"

That sobered Cal up. That was something he didn't want to think about.

"What then?" Gillian asked him, shifting her head back along the pillow to see him better.

Cal had nothing but resounding silence. He turned so he was lying on his back. "Get a restrainin' orda?"

"Do you think he would try again?" Gillian shifted so she was lying close to him. She draped her arm over his abdomen.

"No idea." Cal placed his hand over her arm. Her skin was warm.

Gillian shifted up to kiss him. "Come on," she coaxed in a whisper. "Let's not talk about him while we're in bed." Cal watched her impassively. She shifted again so she was leaning over him. She kissed him again. Cal gave her a slight smile.


	40. Chapter 40

It almost seemed as though Carter had given up on the case. His closing statement was unenthusiastic and his body language was distancing. Hardball Knapp nailed hers. The jury nodded along when she did. They followed her around the room. Cal sat in the aisle, right behind the prosecutions table. He could see the jury, the judge and Mitchell from there. Gillian sat next to him, not quite as miserable with her cold. They swapped Lewis between them when he started getting restless, otherwise he was perfectly quiet, entertaining himself with a set of plastic keys.

After closing arguments Cal took Gillian around the corner of the court house building to a quiet cafe where they could wait. Knapp promised to let them know when the jury came back with a verdict. Cal bought them tea and Lewis apple juice. Gillian sat him in her lap and produced little squares of banana. Lewis pressed them into his own mouth while making little 'hhms' of delight and wiggling his eyebrows at his father as if they were having an interesting conversation. Cal grinned back, warmed by his son's antics.

"I can't believe how well behaved he's been."

Cal and Gillian both looked up in surprise. Zoe was leaning over them, hovering, in case she was too close.

"He's not much of a talka," Cal explained.

"Emily would have been screeching to get down on the floor and crawl up to the jury."

"That might help," Gillian noted.

"Wanna join us?" Cal asked politely.

"If you don't mind?" Zoe raised eyebrows in question.

"Sure," Cal pulled out the chair next to him at the round table. There was an awkward moment of silence; three adults with way too much history and a myriad of strings. Only Lewis carried on as if nothing had changed.

"He's blonde haired," Zoe pointed out lamely.

"Gill used to be a blondie when she was little," Cal explained. She gave him a wan smile. The dark hair he had been born with had come out several months ago and both parents had been surprised by the light hair that came through in its place. Gillian remembered being blonde as a kid and as she got older her hair had gotten darker. Cal reached for his tea and watched as Gillian held Lewis' cup so he could drink too. Lewis turned his head away when he'd had enough and a small amount of juice spilt down his front before Gillian reacted, tilting the cup upright again. She pried Lewis's fingers from the handle so she could put it back on the table and dug through the ever present baby bag, looking for a cloth to clean up the spill. Lewis, in the meantime, burst the droplets with the index finger of his left hand, fascinated by the texture, and the way the liquid disappeared into the denim dungarees he was wearing.

Zoe ordered a latte when a waiter had approached. She had been to court almost as much as Cal had that week. The first day she had shown up in support. She appeared again when Cal testified, slipping in to the back just after he had been sworn in. When she was absent, it was because she was upstairs arguing on behalf of a client.

"You were right about Knapp," Cal made conversation. Gillian wiped Lewis's fingers with a damp cloth. "She's good."

Zoe nodded. "She came in to the DA's office as I was leaving."

"Did you ever work with her?" Gillian asked.

Zoe shook her head slightly, her eyes on Lewis, who now found the buttons on his outfit interesting. "She started out in traffic court."

"Well she really found her niche," Cal mused, sipping more tea.

"Is he talking yet?" Zoe changed the subject.

"Not actual words," Gillian answered. Lewis turned himself over on her lap and slid to the floor down his mother's legs. Gillian gave him a smile. "It's a slide," she told him. Lewis looked up at her, his mouth in an 'o'. Gillian took his hand and helped him to balance on his feet.

"He's more of a babble-a," Cal supplied.

"Emily was the same," Zoe noted. She turned to Cal. "Do you remember? She barely said two words until she was two."

"I rememba," Cal agreed. He wasn't sure he liked where this conversation was going. He hoped this wasn't going to turn into a pissing match between his ex and current life.

"When did Emily start walking?" Gillian asked holding on to Lewis's hand as he shuffled his way around the table. She held on to him until he was out of reach. She let go of his hand and he stood unsteadily for a second before dropping to floor, landing heavily on his padded butt.

"She was around nine months when she started getting the movement right. But she didn't take any solo steps until she was one."

Cal promised himself, if they started talking about him, while he was present, he was going to bolt for the door. He sat back and watched them swap questions, stories and theories; Zoe being nosey, Gillian researching. Lewis picked himself up off the floor and held on to the table as he shuffled his way unsteadily around it. He arrived where Zoe was sitting and she reached for the container of banana in front of Gillian and gave him a piece. He took it with his left hand, while his right held on to the table and pressed it into his mouth and made the little 'hhmm' sound.

"He's so adorable," Zoe cooed. "He looks a lot like Emily at a similar age, don't you think?"

"I can see it," Gillian responded.

"He looks like his mutha at the same age," Cal countered. Gillian had her baby photos, and plenty of them. Cal's had been lost along the way, between his mother's death and going away to school, going away to work and then moving to America.

"You have such blue eyes," Zoe told Lewis.

Cal watched Gillian. She didn't seem bothered about his ex going gooey over their child. Since their last conversation about Sophie, she had relaxed _a lot_. In fact, once the Brandon Mitchell debacle was over with, they could well and truly start the chapter of their lives entitled 'Lewis Guy Hope Lightman'.

Cal's phone started ringing. He dug it out of his jeans pocket. Lewis looked over at him, interested in the sound. "Yeah?" He answered the unknown number. "Oh right," he raised his eyebrows at Gillian's silent question. "Thanks." He hung it up. Gillian was all ready packing Lewis's banana away. Cal didn't need to tell her who that was.

"Is the jury back all ready?" Zoe asked surprised.

**PJ**

"Oh my god, are you watching Doctor Phil!?"

Cal hit the remote so the screen went dark and threw it across the bed, "Nope."

Gillian crawled over the mattress towards him. "Yes you were!" She half laughed, half exclaimed.

Cal tilted his head back to see her as she hovered over him. "For their faces," he waved a hand in front of his.

"Oh, I thought maybe it was for professional tips," she gave him a brilliant smile. Cal smirked in response. "So are you going to get up today?"

"Nah I thought I'd sleep in."

"Hhm," Gillian leaned over him slightly to see the clock on the bedside table. "I'm not sure midday counts as sleeping in. It's more like lazing about."

"Oh right. Then I'm lazin' about."

"Uh huh," Gillian nodded. She dropped her head to kiss his mouth.

"Mmm," Cal murmured. "I'm celebratin' my success."

"Oh," Gillian pretended to understand. She was humouring him. Cal loved it when she was in this kind of mood. Fun; flirty. She might not admit it, but Brandon Mitchell's conviction had lightened her life already too. She kissed him again. "With your laptop?"

"That was rude."

"You're rude," she corrected. "I meant work."

"I was just..." Cal didn't get to finish his sentence. She kissed him again.

"So I was wondering if you were going to shave today?"

"Why's that luv?"

Gillian ran two fingers and a thumb along his jaw and chin. She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. Then she pulled down on his lower lip with her thumb. "Because it's much more fun fooling around you without the scratchiness."

"I thought you liked the scruffiness?"

"I do. But not when it's a week old," Gillian rested her chin down in her upturned hands, elbows on the mattress, ass pointing in the air. She gave him a very intense gaze and he knew was she was suggesting. He felt it tight in his stomach.

Cal pouted. "Few otha snags in your plan though."

"What's that?" Gillian gave him innocent blue eyes.

"Lewis for one."

"He's in his room. He's been fed, changed and I found him something interesting to play with."

"Oh?" Cal asked, eyebrows raised, interest piqued.

"Uh huh. And number two?"

"Coffee. I can smell coffee."

Gillian raised an eyebrow fractionally.

"I think it's you," Cal told her. "You smell like coffee."

"Hmm," Gillian mused. "Ok, well..." she shifted quickly off the bed and started heading for the door.

"What? Wait! Where are you goin'?" Cal implored from flat on his back, his head propped up on a pillow against the head of the bed.

"To get you coffee. Isn't that what you wanted? Coffee?" Gillian slowly started to make her way back.

Cal feigned hurt. "Oh, cos, I thought, maybe..."

Gillian climbed over him, straddling across his hips. "What did you think?" She prompted.

"Forgot," Cal quickly responded as she leaned down to kiss him. Gillian giggled and Cal groaned and kissed her harder.

Gillian pulled back. "So want to give it a go?"

Cal looked up at her. She was wearing one of his work shirts, probably the one he had thrown across the end of the bed when he got home last night. He didn't even remember. But her legs were bare. He ran his hands up the back of her thighs and watched the way her breath started to become shallower, faster, how her lips parted in anticipation, how her eyes darkened in expectation. He gave her a slight grin, ran his hands back down to the crook of her knees. Then he ran his hands up the inside of her thighs this time.

"I'll take that as a yes then," Gillian moaned. She leaned forward again to kiss him again. Her hair fell into Cal's face, tickling. He shifted his hands to hold the light brown strands back while he concentrated on her mouth. Gillian trailed her hands down his chest and then dug around where the covers were over his waist and his t-shirt ended. She found her way to skin and ran her hands up his bare chest. Then she raked her fingers down to his navel.

Cal broke away from her. "All right wait."

"Wait?" Gillian sounded a mix between confused and annoyed.

"Just one minute," Cal tipped her onto the bed unceremoniously. Her leg caught around the power cord of his computer and it knocked everything off his bedside table; clock, cell phone, glasses, baby monitor, book and an empty mug fell to the floor in a clatter. Cal reached for his laptop while Gillian fought to right herself. He quickly saved the file he was working on and slammed the screen closed. Then he turned on Gillian, leaning over her, pinning her back to the bed with his body weight.

"Cal!" Gillian complained as his knee caught her hip.

"Sorry," Cal murmured, pressing down on her shoulder with his hand to force her back. He tucked his fingers around the back of her head, feeling through her soft hair. His lips found their way along her collar bone and then to her mouth. Gillian stopped fighting and started pressing herself against him, her hands gripping him tightly. Cal kissed her until he was out of breath and his heart was pounding.

"Mama!"

Gillian gave him a sudden hard shove and Cal fell back against the mattress, on his back again. "Did you hear that?" She asked, sliding over him on her stomach to reach for the floor, where the baby monitor had fallen.

"I did," Cal confirmed, helping her, so she would get off him. He sat up and threw the covers away. Gillian found the baby monitor but it was silent now. They had the same idea at the same time: head for Lewis's room. Cal tried fighting her to get out of the doorway first but she gave him a well time shove in the shoulder that sent him stumbling into his dresser.

Gillian reached Lewis first. He was standing up in his crib, right hand gripping the railing, left index finger pointing at his mother. "Mama!" He said again.

"Yes!" Gillian picked him up swiftly and swung him onto her hip. "Mama," she repeated with a massive grin on her face. Lewis laughed, blue eyes sparkling.

Cal followed her in a second later. "Aren't you a smart young man," he told his son, feeling the bubble of pride well up through his torso. "How about 'dada'?"

Lewis's expression got serious. His mouth formed into an 'o' but he didn't answer Cal. Gillian turned to her husband with a beam. His first word. His first proper word. That was one milestone Lewis had just nailed. And right on time.

**PJ**

"Oi! What are you doin'? You're supposed to stay in bed so Lewis and I can bring you breakfast," Cal reprimanded sharply as he turned away from the stove to find Gillian walking into the kitchen.

She looked startled for a second. "Sorry." A pause and she kept on walking with a double shrug. "I'm up now."

"No!" Cal objected loudly as she approached where Lewis was mashing toast up with his fingers in his highchair. "Mother's day is like the Sabbath. You shall do no work."

"Is hugging my son work?"

"No lifting him though," Cal instructed with a pointed finger as Gillian leaned down to kiss Lewis's head.

"Mama!" Lewis told her, pointing with his left index finger.

"Do you think he doesn't have much control of his right hand or he's just going to be left handed?" Gillian asked Cal suddenly as she straightened up again.

"I thought he might be a lefty," Cal answered. "But you could ask the good docta bout it at his next check up." He poured her coffee and added the right amount of milk. "When is that?" He stirred it together carefully.

"Not until he's one," Gillian leaned on the bench while she waited.

"So next month then?" Cal reached for the drinking chocolate and sprinkled some on top of the milk.

Gillian gave him a slight laugh. "You're so cute."

"This is your first mother's day," Cal told her very seriously. "You should be takin' advantage of it, cos I plan to spoil you."

Gillian hid a pleased smile as she took her coffee to the kitchen table and sat next to Lewis.

"Ah ah ah!" Lewis yelled and slapped his palms down on his tray, sending chunks of soggy bread flying.

Cal turned back to breakfast; a garden omelette. The pan was just hot enough and it would only take a minute to cook the eggs. He had toast ready on the plate. But he was going to need a spatula.

"For god's sake woman what is wrong with you?! Put that down immediately!"

"I'm sitting right next to it!"

"I don't care! Put it down!" Cal glared at her. "Now."

Gillian threw the t-shirt back onto the pile of washing on top of the kitchen table.

"If you'd stayed in bed like you were meant to," Cal grumbled. "I could have had the kitchen all squared away by the time you got up."

"Sorry to ruin your plans."

Cal sighed dramatically. "I'll forgive you. But no more touchin' or motherin' or fussin'. I'm meant to be doin' those things for you today."

"Touching?" Gillian gave him a grin with a glint in her eye.

"Yeah. But that's late-a on," Cal wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Gillian giggled. Cal slipped the omelette out of the pan and brought it over to her with cutlery.

"Ooooh!" Lewis breathed straining to see what she had received.

"Looks betta than your mess of a meal," Cal told him. He picked up a handful of stray pieces of toast on his way past; some of it soggy, some of it had successfully survived. Lewis continued to show interest in his mother's meal.

"Want some?" Gillian asked him.

"Ooh," Lewis pointed at her plate.

"Am I allowed to feed Lewis some of my breakfast?" Gillian called to where Cal was now scrambling eggs in a clean skillet at the stove.

"I doubt he'd like it," Cal countered. "But yes, that is allowed."

"Why, what's in it?"

"Cayenne pepper."

Gillian looked down at her breakfast. "Sorry Lewis, you're on your own."

"Here," Cal approached and turned Lewis's chair away slightly so he would focus on something else. "This is for you." He put down a container of diced fruit coated lightly in honey sweetened yoghurt. "Not that you deserve it. You didn't eat your toast."

Lewis looked up at him with wide blue eyes. "Dada!" He pointed.

"Ah, the cute card. Nicely played," Cal told him and went to retrieve his breakfast plate. He sat opposite Gillian, in the sun.

"This is so good," Gillian complimented enthusiastically.

"Glad you like it," Cal gave her a toothy grin. "Wait until you see what I have lined up for dinna."


	41. Chapter 41

Gillian slapped Cal's hand away. "Is there something wrong with my cooking?" She huffed.

"No," Cal ducked around her and snagged a piece of chicken. "I'm not tryin' to interfere, just steal some." But while he was over there, rolling the chicken back and forth in his mouth so it wouldn't burn anywhere while he tried to chew it, he stopped the timer on the stove and placed the steamer basket of garden peas into the boiling water, while Gillian added more cumin spice to the chicken.

"Do you remember last year on our wedding anniversary? You cooked dinner and gave me a massage?"

"Yeah."

"I'm supposed to be trying to do that for you this year."

"Oh, is it your turn?"

"Yes."

"Didn't realise we were takin' turns. This time last year, you were pregnant."

"Well we are. You're not very good at letting other people do things for you are you?" She told him annoyed.

"Nope. My love language is definitely not acts of service."

Gillian turned on him stunned. "You read the '_five languages of love'_ book?"

"Eons ago."

Gillian stared at him for a long time while Cal gave her an amused expression. Then she turned and sprinkled salt.

"Go on then. Ask me what mine is," Cal prompted, snagging another piece of chicken. "I know you want to." Gillian batted his hand away belatedly. "Or have you figa-ed it out?" Cal tilted his head to peer at her.

Gillian turned the gas down and full body turned to him. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Do you know what yours is?"

Cal nodded.

"You did the questionnaire in the back?"

Cal nodded again, amused. Or maybe he should be worried. What did it mean if she got it wrong?

"I'd say yours is physical touch."

"That was my primary one yeah."

Gillian gave a pleased smile.

"And I reckon yours is," Cal went on boldly. "Words of affirmation."

Gillian nodded. "I'm actually bilingual."

Cal raised an eyebrow. "Are you now?"

"Uh huh. Want to take a stab at the other one?"

"Physical touch," Cal answered immediately, loving the challenge in her eye. Cal saw her 'yes' on her face. He stepped in close to her and gave her a quick kiss. "Probably why we make such magic togetha huh?"

Gillian laughed lightly. "Quite possibly."

"How is it then that it took us three years of marriage, seven years of bein' in a relationship, twelve years as business partnas and fourteen years of acquaintanceship to have this convasation?" Cal stuck his finger in the chicken's sauce and sucked on it. He reached for the chilli powder.

"No," Gillian tried to snatch it out of his hand. Cal stretched out his arm to its full length. "It doesn't need any more chilli!"

"Just a little smidge."

"You'll burn your tongue off and then you won't be able to taste anything."

"I might like that."

"Well I don't," Gillian huffed, reaching again for the small plastic container in his hand. Cal shifted out of her reach. Gillian lunged after him again. Cal laughed as she missed once more. Gillian slapped at his chest. "Give it to me."

Cal bumped in to her, backed her up until she hit the bench. He leaned in and kissed her. He allowed her to feel for the chilli powder and confiscate it.

"Not quite what I had in mind," Gillian told him, pushing past. She sprinkled another half teaspoon of chilli powder over the chicken and put it back on the spice rack. Cal leaned against the bench amused. Gillian turned to him. "Fourteen years huh?" When he put it like that even she had a hard time believing it. Cal nodded. "And you've been keeping track," Gillian raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"I heard a rume-a to that effect yeah."

"I love that you constantly surprise me Cal," Gillian told him with another smile.

Cal stepped in close again. "I love you."

Gillian placed a hand on his jaw. "Me too." She kissed him sweetly.

"I reckon we've always spoken the same language," Cal told her in a murmur, his forehead pressed close against hers.

**PJ**

"You've got to be kidding me!"

Cal looked up from his computer screen. "What?" He hollered in the direction of the living room, where Gillian's raised voice had come from.

"Were you aware that Lewis threw up on the couch?" Gillian yelled back.

Cal chuckled to himself. "No! Want me to clean it up?"

There was a long silence.

"Gill!"

"What!?" Her voice sounded fainter, like she had gone further away.

"Do you want me to clean it up?" Cal raised his voice louder to be heard. She was probably in the laundry.

"I've got it!" She called back.

"Are you sure?" Cal offered again.

"Ye-es!" Gillian sing-songed.

"Should we be concerned our son is throwin' up?"

"He seemed ok?"

"Ok!?" Cal yelled back and when there was no other response he went back to the laptop computer. When he found his rhythm it was easy to block out the world around him. If Lewis had been crying in another room he probably wouldn't have heard him. That's why Cal tried to work only when Gillian was around; otherwise he would constantly be keeping an ear out and wouldn't be able to really focus. Out of the corner of his eye, Cal was aware of Gillian cutting through the dining room with Lewis on her way to the kitchen. In the back of his mind Cal thought again that Lewis had been sick; he hoped he was all right.

An hour later Cal stretched his arms up over his head. He was thinking he should really get up and take a break when a noise surprised him.

"Dada!"

Cal turned startled. Lewis was standing behind him, one hand on the wall to keep his balance, his left hand pointing at his father. He had a big grin on his face. Cal gave him a smile in return. "How'd you get in here huh?"

"Ah, ah!" Lewis exclaimed, bouncing at the knees where he stood.

"Did you walk?" Cal asked amazed. Of course, he could have crawled but Lewis was not a crawler. He pulled himself up on furniture and shuffled along the couch and tables and then went no further. Cal guessed he must have followed the wall around the room to reach him. Clever.

Cal turned in his chair and reached out a hand. Lewis lowered his hand to his father's intending to grab on to it, but there was a thirty centimetre gap. "Come on then. Show me how you can walk," Cal encouraged. "Cos I reckon you can do it. I reckon you just want to skip ova all the mundane things like crawlin' and get to the big leagues."

Lewis's expression got serious as he stretched out a little further.

"Come on Lewis," Cal coaxed. "Come to Daddy." He shifted his hand a little closer, to create the illusion that the gap wasn't that far, to tempt Lewis into taking just a few short steps towards him.

Lewis turned his body to face Cal. He put his left foot forward and let go of the wall. Standing alone, unsupported, was something Lewis had just started to master. He wavered for a while, looking as though he might take a hard landing on his backside. But then he steadied himself and formed his mouth into a little 'o', as if he were amused with himself. Cal sat patiently, encouraging gently. He felt his stomach set on edge. He really hoped this was it. He thought about yelling for Gillian but he wasn't sure Lewis was going to go for it.

"Come on little man," Cal leaned a little further out of his chair. Lewis giggled and moved his right foot forward. He wobbled on his feet. "Yes!" Cal exclaimed quietly. "That's it. And the otha one."

Lewis crawled his left foot over the carpet. Cal pulled back slightly. Lewis moved his right foot and then lost his balance and fell forward. Cal dived forward and caught him, straightening up on his feet in the same movement. He swung Lewis into the air above his head. Lewis squealed in delight and Cal lowered him down against his chest, placing a quick succession of kisses along his cheeks. Cal laughed. "Go Lewis! I'm so proud of you my boy!"

Lewis slapped his hands against Cal's shoulders. "Let's go show Mum."

"Mum, mum, mum," Lewis repeated pointing to the kitchen.

"Yes, Mum, she'll wanna see too so I hope you got anotha display in you," Cal walked around the dining room table. Gillian was at the sink rinsing dishes for the dishwasher. "Lose somebody?" Cal announced his presence.

Gillian turned to look at the spot on the floor where a blanket was laid out and a few plastic toys were strewn, where she had clearly left Lewis to play. She looked up at Cal next, her worry flooding into relief when she saw Lewis in his arms. And then: shock. "How did he?"

"I dunno. Walked I think."

"He walked?" Gillian's surprise deepened.

"Around the table," Cal explained, pointing out the path. Lewis's toys were near the kitchen table, there was a chair between it and the wall and from there Lewis would have just had to follow the line around to where Cal had been sitting in the dining room.

"Oh wow," Gillian's face broke into a warm smile. "You walked?" This was directed at Lewis.

"Stop!" Cal held out a hand as she took two steps towards them. He had purposefully stopped a meter away from her. He backed up a few steps. "There's more." He put Lewis down on the ground and held his hands above his head. Lewis bounced up and down and squealed. Gillian dropped down into a crouch and they both waited for Lewis to calm down. "Come on then," Cal told him. "Show Mum that you can walk." Cal started pulling on Lewis's hands so he was forced to take a few steps forward. Cal didn't though, he just leaned over until Lewis was just about out of reach and then pushed the much smaller fingers out of his hands. Lewis was left standing on his own, wavering again, looking as though he might fall on his face this time.

Gillian stuck her hands out and leaned forward. "Come on," she encouraged. "Show me."

Lewis caught his balance and pointed his left finger at Gillian. "Mum!"

"Yes, come on," Gillian coaxed. "Come and give me a hug."

Cal, who had already seen Lewis take his first steps, was observing Gillian's face. When it came to Lewis she was so expressive and it was a delight to watch. It felt good to see her so happy. Things were good these days. Lewis was about to turn one. He was generally a happy kid. Gillian was carefree. Their relationship was back on solid ground. The Lightman Group was firmly in the black. Taking a break from the murders and drug dealers and rapists had reignited Cal's passion for faces. He didn't feel the need to hide away from the world anymore.

Lewis trawled his left foot forward over the kitchen floor. Cal saw Gillian tense, waiting. Lewis leaned forward a little, judging the distance between himself and his mother. Gillian stretched out her hands a little further. Lewis picked up his right foot and then put it back, as if he couldn't decide which method was easier. He stood for a long minute, rocking back and forth on his feet, finding his balance and then all of a sudden he took a few shaky steps forward and fell into Gillian's outstretched arms. Gillian sat back on the floor and hugged Lewis tightly, exclaiming her delight and smothering him in kisses.

When Cal saw her face again she had tears and an expression that he could only describe as pure joy. It made him feel funny inside, that one gift in the form of Lewis had given her so much happiness, and maybe, just maybe, if he allowed a stroke of his ego, he could consider himself partly responsible for that gift.


	42. Chapter 42

"Bum bum!" Lewis called from the back seat.

Gillian giggled and turned around to see him. "Bost-ton," she corrected.

"Bum bum!" Lewis repeated.

"Emily," Gillian tried.

"Me me me," Lewis echoed.

"Em-i-lee," Gillian enunciated.

"Mum, mum, mum," Lewis said instead.

"Nice try," Cal told her turning carefully on to the street with their hotel.

Gillian faced the front again. "At least he wasn't yelling out bum bum on the plane."

Cal laughed. "That would have made for great in flight entertainment."

Gillian shot him a smile. "Did you bring the birthday invitation for Emily?"

"Yes," Cal responded turning into the hotel parking lot.

"And the tickets for the ceremony?"

Cal patted his breast pocket. He pulled into a park and cut the engine. "I haven't forgotten anythin'."

Lewis screeched from the back seat. Cal turned to see him straining against his straps in his seat. "All right, calm down! We're here."

Lewis started to get more distressed.

"I still think we should have left him with your brutha. Then we could have had a naughty weekend away."

Gillian unfastened her seatbelt and shot him a disparaging expression coupled with a frown as she reached for the door handle.

"That was a joke," Cal pointed out pushing the catch on his seat belt. Gillian didn't answer him. She opened her door and stepped out into a Boston summer. Cal popped the boot of the rental and retrieved their bags while Gillian retrieved their son.

Once they were checked in and up in their room, Cal called Emily to let her know they had arrived safely. After school had finished officially, and her exams were over, she had moved into a small apartment with Ajay. He still had six months of his masters to work on and Emily, waiting to graduate, had decided to get a job and stay with him. Cal wasn't sure if he was opposed to the idea. It was a plan in the very least and while he didn't like her following a boy around too much, at least she was making plans. Emily invited them over for dinner later that evening.

"All right darlin' see you then," Cal hung up. He threw his phone lightly on to the bed. Gillian was unpacking. Lewis was playing with blocks on the floor. "So what are we gonna do in the meantime?" He asked.

"I'd like to get Em some flowers," Gillian answered. Cal jumped on the bed, jostling the case she was working on. She gave him an annoyed expression.

"You seem tense luv, what's up?"

"Nothing," Gillian told him.

"Oh I know that one," Cal responded. "That means there really _is_ somethin' wrong and I should know exactly what it is."

Gillian stopped, fixed him with a look. "When have I ever done that to you?"

"Neva, but that's cos I can read you like a book."

Gillian gave him a disparaging expression, but just as she turned away to hang up her dress in the wardrobe, Cal caught a hint of a smile. "I was thinking about having a shower first though," she mused. "So I can wash away the airplane."

"Sounds delightful," Cal noted.

"You're babysitting," Gillian told him, pointing at Lewis, who had picked himself up to take six steps across the room towards the TV. Then he stood and wobbled a bit and landed on his backside heavily.

"All right then," Cal sprung off the mattress. He crossed and picked Lewis up as he was getting to his feet again. Lewis squealed at him. Cal took him to the bed while Gillian went to the bathroom. He found a few books Gillian had packed and snuggled Lewis up against his chest. Lewis squirmed a bit and tried fighting his father away so he could get up and play some more but Cal held him firmly. Lewis had stayed awake during the entire flight. And now it was early afternoon. Cal wanted him to go to sleep, so he wouldn't be so scratchy later in the evening.

Ten minutes later Cal could hear the water turn off in the bathroom. He craned his head to see Lewis's face. His blue eyes were half closed and he sighed contentedly. Cal straightened up the book and kept reading, purposefully keeping his voice low and even, nice and soothing. When Cal reached the end of _Goodnight Moon_ he checked again. Lewis's eyes were closed, his breathing steady. Cal put the book down on the bed next to him and waited. He checked his watch, waited some more. Then he shifted the arm he had around Lewis slightly so his body was more on the mattress than on Cal. Lewis didn't stir. Cal waited again. Then he gently eased Lewis's head from his shoulder to a pillow. Lewis gave a little moan but didn't wake up. Cal waited again even though Lewis wasn't touching him anymore. He gave it a minute and then sprung up from the mattress. He turned to look down at his sleeping son, blonde hair askew, face peaceful in sleep.

Cal pushed on the bathroom door. Gillian was in her underwear. She turned to look over her shoulder. "Perfect timin'," Cal told her in a low voice.

Gillian gave him a slight smile. "Did you want something?"

"Nope."

"Then in or out, it's cold."

Cal stepped inside the doorway and pushed the door closed behind him.

"Aren't you supposed to be watching someone?"

"He's asleep."

"Oh, I was going to go out," Gillian responded with a frown.

"You can still go out. I don't mind stayin' behind."

"Really?" Gillian's eyebrows shot upwards. "You're going to give me a few hours to myself so I can go shopping?"

Cal nodded while Gillian reached for her towel again, and rubbed the dampness from the shoulder length strands. In the last year since Lewis's birth Gillian had kept the yoga up. Her body was almost back to how it used to be. Cal still appreciated it. Nothing had changed for him. She was still beautiful, still made his stomach feel funny.

"You're staring," Gillian noted softly.

Cal blinked. "Sorry. Admirin' the view." Gillian smiled slightly. "It's a really good view."

"Stop it you," Gillian warned him as she hung her damp towel up again.

Cal followed her to the bedroom, sitting on the corner of the bed while she got dressed again. "So what are the flowas for then?" He asked softly.

"Your daughter is graduating college," Gillian informed him quietly while rifling through the recently hung wardrobe.

"Yep, I recall gettin' somethin' in the mail about that. I was askin' if they were for dinna tonight? Because maybe we should get somethin' to take?"

"Good idea," Gillian noted slipping into a grey skirt.

"Pot plant?"

Gillian gave him an amused smile.

"Cos I'm not sure if this counts as a house warmin' thing."

"You're reading too much into it," Gillian told him.

"Am I? She's playin' house for the first time with a boy," Cal almost winced.

Gillian's expression told Cal she was thinking about it. "I don't think you should make a big deal out of it. We should just treat it as a dinner invitation."

"All right."

"She'll always be your little girl huh? No matter how old she gets?"

"Hard to see her any otha way."

Gillian glanced over at the sleeping Lewis. "I know what you mean." She found a shirt to go with her skirt and slipped it over her shoulders.

"Want to take the car?"

"I might just walk around a bit," Gillian countered doing up the buttons. "It's such a nice day."

Cal looked out the window. He hadn't noticed. "I think I might have a nap."

"You had a late night," Gillian noted.

Nothing rude in that statement. "Wanted to get the words right."

Gillian nodded. She understood. She finger combed her damp hair, not wanting to use the hair dryer in case it woke Lewis, and pulled it back into a little ponytail. She gathered together her purse and slipped on shoes. "I've got my phone..."

"If I need you," Cal finished. He followed her to the door. "Of course." He gave her a kiss in farewell. "Have fun."

"I will," Gillian told him brightly before slipping out of the room.

Cal closed the curtains and settled himself on the mattress next to his son. He closed his eyes and already felt himself drifting away.

**PJ**

"Dinna was delightful," Cal told Emily again as she walked them to their rental car.

"Yeah thank you Em," Gillian spoke up. Cal remotely unlocked the car and Gillian bent to place Lewis in his car seat. On hearing they were leaving he had started up a steady wave goodbye before they had even left the living room.

"I'm really glad you guys came over. So I could show you where I'm living."

Cal was pretty sure if he looked over at Gillian, she would have shot him a warning glare. Even if Emily was opening the door wide, he wasn't allowed to stroll on through it, even if he attempted to pass it off innocently. "It was good to see," Cal responded lamely. "Thanks for the hospitality Ajay," Cal addressed the young man.

Ajay gave a nod and a smile. "We'll see you tomorrow."

It almost sounded like a question. "Of course," Cal agreed. Gillian took the baby bag from his shoulder and placed it on the floor behind the passenger seat. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. I'm gonna make a speech, Em, just thought I should warn you."

"Oh god Dad, you're so _embarrassing_," Emily groaned as she reached up to give him a hug around the shoulders.

Cal grinned at her when they pulled away. "I'll have my video camera too."

"Stop him now," Emily beseeched Gillian.

"As if I could," she responded with a smile. "Come on," she coaxed, a hand on Cal's shoulder.

"You guys know where you're going tomorrow right?" Emily asked as Gillian turned Cal in the direction of the driver's door.

"Yeah yeah," Cal retorted. "You're such a worry wart. You're like you're mutha."

"We have a map," Gillian explained. "See you tomorrow!"

Emily gave a wave as they pulled away. Lewis strained against the straps of his car seat. "Mum!"

Gillian awkwardly turned to look over her shoulder. "What?" She asked Lewis.

Lewis reached for her. "Mum!"

"Nope, you have to stay in your seat," she told him straightening around again. Lewis cried something unintelligible. Then he went very quiet. Cal glanced over his shoulder to see what he was up to.

"What's he doing?" Gillian asked.

"Tryin' to worm his way out of the straps," Cal responded slowing for a light. As soon as Cal stopped the car Lewis starting calling out again. "Bed time for him when we get back," he noted, checking the time. It was late, Lewis's bedtime.

"Uh huh," Gillian agreed but Cal could see the way she cringed when Lewis's raised voice turned into tears. He didn't let up as they walked through the hotel lobby or in the lift or down the corridor to their room.

"Ow my ears," Cal complained to Lewis as he crossed to the bed and put his son down on the mattress so he was standing. There was a wet patch on Cal's shoulder from Lewis's mouth. "Look, it's wet," Cal pointed out.

Lewis suddenly went quiet and fingered the damp material while Cal pulled away the back of the trousers his son was wearing to check to see if his nappy was clean. Gillian emerged from the bathroom and Lewis, deciding his father wasn't so interesting after all, turned and clambered awkwardly over the mattress to get to her while bawling his eyes out, as if Cal had pinched him.

"He's clean," Cal told her over Lewis's tears.

"You're tired aren't you," Gillian told the boy, picking him up. Lewis sobbed. "I know," Gillian told him. "It's been a very exciting day." She kicked her shoes off. Cal crossed the room to use the bathroom himself. When he came back Gillian and Lewis were curled up on the bed while she breast fed him to sleep. It was the only feed he got that way now. "Did you check his diaper?" Gillian asked as Cal kicked his shoes under the bed.

"Yep, I said that he was clean."

"Oh," Gillian looked down at Lewis again.

"Should I be offended you weren't listenin' or just assume he was makin' so much noise you didn't hear me?"

Gillian gave him a slight smile. "Go for the second one. I always listen to you."

Cal untucked his shirt and started unbuttoning it. He draped it over a chair and prepared Lewis's bed. "Do you think we should meet up with Zoe before the ceremony tomorrow?"

"That's up to you."

"So that was a 'yes'?" Cal turned to her. He settled himself on the mattress next to Lewis, who looked over his shoulder at Cal before turning back to his mother.

"I think it would be nice."

"I'll call her tomorrow then."

Gillian reached over and rubbed a hand over Cal's arm.

**PJ**

They were all sitting together: Cal, Gillian, Lewis, Zoe and Ajay. Emily had had to get extra tickets. Although Lewis was strictly lap room only. Cal could make out the back of Emily's head in the sea of gown wearing students. Gillian was on his left and Ajay on hers. Cal was between his ex and current wife with Lewis on his knee. Zoe was once again cooing over Lewis, offering him her keys to play with and stooping to pick them up when he threw them away again. The woman in front of them turned to see what the noise was about. When she spotted Lewis she melted into a gooey smile and wiggled her fingers at him. She met Cal's eyes and gave him a smile. Cal returned it in acknowledgement.

"He's going to be a charmer, just like you," Zoe told him in a quiet voice.

"That's what Gillian tells me," Cal responded giving Lewis a jig up and down. Lewis laughed in delight. "Shame I don't have this little guy's good looks. Hey Lewis. Where are we?"

Lewis recognised his name and looked up at his father, his mouth forming a little 'o'. "Where are we?" Cal asked again. Lewis understood 'yes', 'no', 'bedtime' and 'goodbye'. "Boston," Cal prompted.

"Bum bum!" Lewis echoed loudly. Zoe laughed. The woman in front of them half turned and shot a partial disgusted glare over her shoulder.

"Boston," Cal repeated slowly and quietly.

"Bum bum!" Lewis called out.

Cal laughed. He could see Gillian turned her head slightly towards him, checking out what was going on in their section of the row. "What about, Emily?"

"Me, me, me," Lewis pointed up at the sky.

"No, she's not up there," Cal corrected. He turned Lewis around and pointed out his sister in the crowd. "She's there."

Lewis pointed vaguely to the left. Cal reposition his finger for him. "See her?" Lewis babbled something else. "Oi! Em!" Cal hollered across the rows. The woman in front turned to give him a fully disgusted expression.

"How are you doing?" Zoe asked her politely.

"Emily Lightman!" Cal yelled again. She turned, looking, confused and saw him wave Lewis's arms at her. Lewis laughed and waved his arms erratically. Emily gave a small wave over her shoulder and then turned around again. In the next second the girl beside her was leaning in to talk to her. Emily must have responded. They both turned to look at Cal so he waved with a big grin on his face.

Lewis turned over in Cal's lap and stood himself up to see over his shoulder. "That's it son, make friends with the people behind us too." Lewis jigged up and down on his feet. "Just don't get your goobers on Daddy's suit."

"Dada," Lewis pointed over his shoulder. Cal glanced to his left to see what Lewis was looking at that was so interesting. There was a big busted woman sitting slightly to Cal's left, directly behind Gillian. "Tell me about it mate," Cal told Lewis softly so no one else would hear.

An entourage of older persons started a long train across the grass towards the raised platform. There were men and women in black gowns, different colours adorned to note which school they belonged to. Cal took particular note of the head of the law school. The crowd gradually fell silent as the heads of schools took their seats. The dean of the business school stood at the podium reading to make her opening address. Cal had forgotten her name and he couldn't double check; Lewis had soggied and then broken his programme down into chunks of paper that was now on the ground around where Cal sat.

"Welcome family, friends, graduates..." the dean began her opening speech. Lewis turned abruptly to Cal with a 'what is _that_?!' expression.

"Look," Cal pointed to the stage where the noise was coming from. Lewis turned around on Cal's thigh, digging his weight into Cal's flesh. Cal moved him so it wasn't so painful. He quietly pointed out who was talking and all the important people up on the stage. Lewis was fascinated for about a minute then he started fighting Cal to get down. Cal shifted him around so he had a tighter grip on him. The last thing he wanted was to have to keep an eye on Lewis making his way down the row while trying to watch his daughter graduate.

Gillian reached down for her handbag. She produced a stash of crackers for Lewis, pried the lid of the airtight container and offered him one. "Oh!" Lewis helped himself. On the stage someone else had got up to make a speech.

The afternoon wore on. The head of the student body made a speech and someone else came out to play the violin. Lewis got more restless, with everyone sitting too still and trying to ignore him. After he had finished with his crackers he threw one at Cal so Gillian confiscated them. Then she offered him a cup of juice. He sucked on that quietly before finding if he tipped it upside down the juice would drip slowly out onto his shorts. So Gillian confiscated that too. He tried pushing her away while she wiped the spilt liquid up. Cal could sense the woman in front of them fighting the urge to turn around and glare at the disturbances Lewis created.

"I'll take him for a walk," Cal finally suggested dodging an arm to his face. Lewis was trying to pull out of his grip, his face turning red with the effort.

"I'll go," Gillian told him instead. She swiftly got to her feet and pulled Lewis up to her hip. Ajay stood to let her by. Cal watched her go. He wanted to protest, that she shouldn't be the one to leave, but then again, this was _his_ daughter that was graduating. And Zoe's. Cal turned to glance at her. She was watching the stage intently, the first group of students were lining up to walk across the stage.

A surname beginning with an 'L' was kind of perfect. Halfway through the alphabet, Cal only had to sit for forty five minutes of other young adults, some of them not so young, as they made their way to the dean to receive their scrolls. People called out, applauded politely and the flash of cameras going off was only subdued by the glare of the sun. Cal, Zoe and Ajay all had cameras ready as Emily inched closer to the stage steps. She looked out over the crowd and gave a smile when her eyes met Cal's. Or maybe she was smiling at her mother or her boyfriend. At this point, Cal felt the strong emotions and pride of being a father. He remembered when she was born, her first steps, the day she started school, the day he realised he couldn't hide the world from her anymore, the day she asked about boys, the day she asked about her grandmother, the day she and Zoe had moved out. So much history. So much love and pride and excitement. She was at the beginning proper of her life now and he would be little more than a silent observer. One day, she might even be sitting in his seat right now, reflecting on her own children, wondering if she had done enough, hoping their lives would be everything she wanted for them.

"Emily Lightman."

Cal poised his camera as his gut tightened. He zoomed in on his daughter's face as she made her way across the stage. She took purposeful steps, so she wouldn't trip or fall. Cal smiled. He had been a little bit tipsy at his graduation. Emily had a Mona Lisa smile as she approached the dean and shook her hand. She paused to adjust her cap, announcing to those watching that she was a graduate now, the purple trim of her hood denoting she had the start of a law degree. Cal snapped off shots, watching the frozen images flash for a second on the screen. When she reached the other side of the stage, Cal dropped his camera into his lap and clapped loudly. Zoe whistled from next to him; something Cal had always been envious of her being able to do. Emily gave a wave in their general direction. Cal fought back the urge to cry. He looked over at Zoe who hadn't. She gave him a wan smile and Cal returned it. That was it. Two minutes. Cal started grinning. He was so proud.

"I'm gonna find Gill," Cal leaned towards Zoe to murmur. He sprung up out of his seat and shuffled past Ajay. When Cal turned to stride towards the back of the row of white seats he spotted the figure of Gillian standing at the back, tall in her black heels, Lewis on her hip, talking to him intently. Cal was close when she saw him. She gave him a smile. Lewis pointed at him. "Did you see her?" Cal asked when he was a few feet away.

"Uh huh," Gillian confirmed. "She was great."

"She is great," Cal agreed. "I'm glad you didn't miss it."

"Did you take photos?"

"Yes Mum," Cal moaned. Gillian gave him her unimpressed expression. Cal held up the camera and reached for Lewis so they could swap and she could see. "You see your big sista?" Cal asked Lewis who just stared at him, not understanding. "That'll be you one day young man."

"Ah!" Lewis announced in response.

Gillian closed the camera and slipped it back into its case. She put it in her handbag. "You didn't have to leave," she told Cal.

"I'm not much interested in seein' otha people's children wanderin' across the stage." Cal caught a wiff of something unpleasant. "And this guy needs a new nappy. We can catch up with the otha's late-a."


	43. Chapter 43

Gillian felt the mattress shift and it disturbed her out of her sleep enough to register it. Then she ignored it, not wanting to wake up just yet. She re-positioned a little, finding just an inch more of comfort and let her mind drift again. Morning. Sunny. Sleepy. Warm. Comfortable. Not at home. Not alone. Gillian pried an eye open with a frown. Non-familiar walls looked back at her; a black and white photograph of a stretch of clouds over a rugged beach, lit up by a stream of sunshine fighting its way through plain Navy blue curtains. She was suddenly acutely aware that this wasn't her bed either; the covers were a deep chocolate brown, a circular patter over the top, almost like bubbles. They were crisp from being new, and she knew that because she still hadn't worn in her new bed sheets either. Gillian turned her head slightly to the left. Cal. Watching her silently, sitting back by her hip, watching her intently. Gillian gave him a slight frown, closed her eyes again as she turned her head and pulled the lighter creamy brown sheet over her face so she could hide. She groaned and mumbled: "What are you doing?"

"Nothin'."

"Were you watching me sleep?"

"Nope."

"Why were you watching me sleep?" She couldn't think of anything worse, of any more intimate thing for him to have done than if they had actually slept together. What if she had snored? Drooled? Or had let something slip out of her sub-conscious? Something he would take great delight in teasing her about later. Or in a minute.

"I've neva done it before."

Gillian felt her face turn into a smile before she could really help it. She turned her head towards him again, pulling back the sheet to expose her eyes so she could see him. He gave her a tentative smile, as if he were trying to convince her he was innocent, but there was just a little hint of his charm.

Cal sat back on his heels. The covers were still completely over Gillian's body but she could see his, the flatness of his stomach, the slight definition of pectoral muscles, the short dark hairs on his chest, which got thicker and longer around his belly button before snaking down beneath the black briefs and were also over firm thighs. His biceps were defined but not overly developed, but Gillian had known that before. Despite a few sketchy instances in which Cal had stripped off in front of her, or that one time they had gone to the beach and he had braved the water, Gillian hadn't really seen him in this state of undress before. She remembered thinking last night that she wanted him to put a t-shirt on too. But maybe now she didn't mind so much.

"How long have you been awake?" Gillian asked, wondering what his morning habits were like. Did he wake early? Bound out of bed, ready to face the day? Or was he a slow starter, needing caffeine and a pep talk to get going?

"A little while," Cal answered simply. He shifted so he was lying down again. Gillian turned over on to her stomach, resting her head flat on the mattress so it was facing him, having somehow lost her pillow somewhere above her, and closed her eyes again. And then a thought occurred to her. She surreptitiously shifted her hand over her waist and down over her hip. Thank god, she still had underwear on and a t-shirt Cal had leant her. So no, she hadn't changed her mind halfway through the night and forgotten about it.

Last night. Dinner, wine and such an intimate conversation, on the couch, not in bed, that Gillian had ended up staying the night. How had he convinced her to stay again? Something about it being entirely too late for her to drive home. Something about it being such a long way away. Something about it being cold outside. Somehow, Gillian figured she really hadn't needed that much convincing.

"What time is it?" She mumbled at him suddenly feeling as if she could go back to sleep and wondering if she could get away with it.

"Early."

Gillian cracked an eye at him. He was lying on his side now, facing her, still watching her intently. She closed the eye with a frown and turned her head around the other way, shifting her hair out of her face with her hand. It lasted two seconds before she was facing him again, keeping her eyes open this time, even though they felt gritty with too little sleep. Their conversation had run very late last night. "What time do you think we went to sleep?"

"Sometime this mornin'."

Gillian groaned. "Don't you sleep in?"

"Hard to sleep with a beautiful bird in my bed," Cal answered gently, his accent sounding surprisingly thick.

"Not that hard," Gillian countered.

"Wanna bet?" Cal retorted. He suddenly flashed her a grin, his pale blue eyes lighting up with a cheekiness Gillian had often seen him throw at women; _other_ women. Until now, his flirting with her had always been light. Innuendo had been very subtle. Gillian felt a fierce blush crawl over her cheeks. But she didn't look away as Cal's grin turned into a delighted chuckle.

Gillian groaned again and stretched her arm up towards the top of the bed until she could feel the wall. It obscured her view of Cal. "I feel like I'm hung over."

"All you had to drink were two glasses of wine."

"Guess I'm not sixteen anymore. I can't take staying up all night talking."

"What, wait, you're not sixteen?" Cal teased.

Gillian lifted her head to peer at him over her arm. Cal gave her another grin, like he was highly amused. Gillian lowered her head again. She loved the flirty side of Cal. She loved having moments like this with him; just them alone and uninterrupted and being open with each other. But it was still taking some getting used to. She felt shy about it. Cal clearly didn't.

"Do me a fave-a luv?"

"What's that?" Gillian asked.

"Move your arm, I can't see you anymore."

Gillian shot her arm back quickly under the covers. Cal gave her a warm smile once she was visible again and it made Gillian's stomach flutter a little. She used to shut that feeling down, pretend that she hadn't noticed it. Now she was able to embrace it.

"How did you sleep?" Cal asked politely.

"Very well," Gillian admitted. "Your bed is really comfy." And the sheets were soft and the pillow the right amount of thickness and she had drifted off to sleep so quickly, so peacefully because she felt so comfortable being in Cal's bed. Just being. Nothing naughty.

Cal looked pleased. "It's got great back support."

Gillian gave him a smirk. "I bet it does," she responded dryly.

Cal grinned. "I'd have to say it was delightful to wake up with Gillian Fosta in my bed."

Gillian lifted herself up off the mattress, Cal's blue eyes following her. She picked the sleep out of her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. She gave him a warm smile this time. "It was nice waking up here." Because she had stayed over before, and he had stayed over at her place, and once or twice they had gone away and stayed in hotels together; but never ever in the same bed. And definitely never ever under these possibilities before.

Cal looked pleased again. "Glad you stayed ova then?" He pointed a finger with a delighted grin. "Yeah you are."

"Stop that," Gillian reached out and batted his hand away. She shifted toward Cal, wanting them to be closer together. He turned as he watched her, cautious anticipation on his face as she leaned over him. Gillian moved the thick covers out of her way as she got closer to him until their bodies were touching at the hip. She reached over Cal, so she was pressing against his chest, and he looked as though he wasn't sure if he should move out of her way or stay put. In fact, Gillian was aware of his breath catching and then him holding it. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she dug around under his pillow for the small gap between the mattress and the wall.

"Tell me about this," she produced a little orange teddy bear she had found last night as they were getting ready for bed. It was two hands tall, faded in patches, one glass eye loose in its socket, a tattered brown bow tie around its neck. Gillian lay back as she hugged the bear against her chest.

"What about it?"

Gillian shifted the bear so it was in front of both of them. "What is this?"

"A teddy bear."

"Is it yours?"

"Yeah," Cal admitted.

"That's so cute! What's its name?"

"Giggle bear."

Gillian turned her head towards him. "Sorry? Did you say Giggle Bear?"

"Yeah, my girlfriend named him."

Gillian watched his face, "Cal Lightman has a teddy bear named by a girlfriend? How old were you?"

"Three."

Gillian hugged the bear again, turning on her side to face him. "That is so sweet." And she loved that she was discovering all these new things about him.

Cal looked neutrally unimpressed. Gillian suddenly reached up behind him to put the teddy bear back. Cal went still again while she was leaning over him. Gillian gave him a smile and then dropped her head slowly to kiss him, staring into his eyes until their lips met. Gillian tucked the teddy bear under his pillow and placed her hand along his jaw, feeling the scruff of his beard. Gillian simply pressed her lips against Cal's and pulled away again. She settled on her side, close to him, so her head was resting on his shoulder.

They lay in silence for a moment. Gillian was glad she had stayed over. Immensely glad so that she got to experience a morning like this. There was no embarrassed afterglow of seeing someone for the first time just after they had woken up, with no makeup, teeth and hair unbrushed and the added awkwardness of a night before and seeing them naked. Gillian was aware of the fact that she had no makeup on and her teeth weren't brushed, but the way Cal looked at her made her feel supremely confident he hadn't been put off by that fact. There was a look in his eye she couldn't quite place, because she hadn't seen it before. She was sure of two things only; she had only seen it on his face this morning and she had only seen it directed at her.

Cal's hand brushed over her hip and settled on her waist. It was warm and heavy and the perfect blend between respecting the boundary that she wasn't ready to be physically intimate with him, while pushing to touch her. Last night he had held her hand and rested his fingers on her knee, brushed them over her arm. His lips were possessive of her mouth but they didn't stray from their limits. It was like he was savouring discovering her; taking a few extra steps every day, reading one chapter at a time, taking one jellybean from the bowl in a very strong discipline to make them last.

"You smell heavenly," Cal murmured against her hair, pressing his lips against the top of her head. He was very good at creating sweet moments like this Gillian had come to realise. She gave a little contented sigh and snuggled in closer, turning her head to nuzzle her nose against his skin. He smelt pretty damn great too, especially in this raw, unpreened, after-shave free state.

Gillian had a hand over his torso, just below his rib cage. She splayed her fingers out, feeling the firm muscles under his skin. She had never thought about his body before. She had noticed how his clothes fit of course, but she had never _thought_ about what that meant. She hadn't thought about what it would feel like to wake up in his bed, clothed or not. She hadn't given thought to what it would be like to lie with him and share a gentle peace, just like right now. Cal's hand somehow found skin simply by shifting down and then it was shifting up again so it was under her shirt, on the bare skin of her waist. Gillian squirmed.

"Is my hand cold?" Cal queried softly.

"No," Gillian breathed.

"Are you ticklish?" Cal asked next, sounding highly amused.

"No," Gillian scoffed. Cal's fingers curled up over her skin, feathery light in their touch, his head pulled back to see her reaction. She gave a slight smile only.

"No?" Cal repeated. "I'm disappointed."

"What about you?" Gillian attempted to make him laugh in the same way. He just held a light smile on his lips. "Now _I'm_ disappointed."

Cal gave a light chuckle. "Is this all right, then, holdin' you like this?"

"Yes. I like it a lot," Gillian spoke softly. She hugged him a little tighter. "This right now. Just being here with you."

"I like being with you a lot too."

And then it struck Gillian. That look in his eye. That one that had appeared this morning. The way he was being now. And even how she was being with him. A reaction. A peace. A feeling. She loved him. More importantly, he loved her. His blue eyes gazed with adoration and amazement and longing and love. And they hadn't even slept together.

"Are you all right?" Cal asked gently.

Gillian realised her hand had tightened against his torso. "Yes," she breathed, feeling warm and cold at the same time, feeling her heart race and be sluggish with slowed down time. She loved Cal. She knew that for sure. In the back of her mind, she had loved him for a long time but this was a pinnacle moment and she would remember it for a long time to come.

She moaned against Cal, feeling his hand tighten on her a little. "I suppose we should get up."

"Suppose," Cal echoed.

"But I don't want to leave," Gillian supplied.

"Then don't," Cal suggested.

**PJ**

Gillian turned over; the room was pitch black and very quiet. She figured it was some early hour of the morning. She felt for Cal along the mattress, subconsciously checking he was still there with her, and pressed herself up against him. She settled to go back to sleep and then she realised he was awake. "Mm," she forced a noise out of her throat. Cal's hand gently came over her arm. "Why are you awake?" Gillian murmured.

"Thinkin'."

"What about?"

"Go to sleep."

Gillian shifted, convinced herself she was more awake than she was. "Something wrong?" She listened on instinct for Lewis.

"Nope," Cal whispered. "Just thinkin' about today."

"It was a good day," Gillian commented. Even with Zoe there, forcing her way into the connection she had with Cal, reminding Gillian, as if she had had a chance to forget, that Zoe had been there first, that Emily was not her daughter, but Zoe and Cal's. That everything Gillian had with Cal, Zoe had had once before too. That Gillian was the second fiddle to Zoe's lead. It was annoying, and very Zoe-like and so very unfortunate that Gillian couldn't tell her to bugger off. In some ways, Gillian had inadvertently wormed her way into Cal and Zoe's life.

"It was," Cal agreed, his hand rubbing up and down her arm.

"So what's on your mind?"

"Do you know what time it is?"

"No idea," Gillian sighed, her eyes prickly with a fatigue that had lasted a year.

"It's two thirty."

"Hmm."

"Not the time for convasations."

"So go to sleep."

Cal was silent for a moment. "I was thinkin' about this year."

"Oh," Gillian shifted her hips against him so she was more comfortable. He clearly wanted to talk then. And she was definitely willing to listen. At all times. Cal moved his arm out of her way and they shifted, danced around each other until Gillian was fitted under his arm, her hand on his chest, her face right in the crook of his neck. Cal's arm was strong and comforting against her back, his hand heavy and warm where it rested on her waist. "Mmm," Gillian murmured in appreciation.

"You're cold," Cal pointed out.

"I know."

"How can you be cold? It's summa."

"I dunno. You're nice and warm though," Gillian gave him a squeeze. Cal reached over with his left hand and rubbed her upper arm. "So this year?" She prompted.

"Hell of a year."

"Mh hmm," Gillian agreed.

"Just thinkin about Em. She's finally flown the coop."

"She did that four years ago," Gillian responded, letting Cal direct the conversation his way, even though she suspected Emily was not exactly the topic on his mind.

"Yeah, but this time she really is on her own. She's livin' with a boy."

"A man."

"Who made the worst first impression I've seen in a long time and yet is actually a nice guy and he's good for her."

"Did you practice that in your head so it came out nice and smoothly?"

"This time, she really doesn't need her old man."

"She'll always need you Cal." Cal was silent, so Gillian kept going. "You'll always be her father. She'll always need you and you'll always be there for her."

"I know. But now it's different. Now I have to have an adult relationship with her. That's what you've been steerin' me towards for years huh?"

"Uh huh," Gillian confirmed. "And you'll do the same with Lewis."

Cal gave her a slight squeeze. "I'm thinkin' how grateful I am for you."

Gillian's heart gave a funny beat and her body temperature started to steadily soar.

"This year, more than any otha year; and we've had some real doozies, has been..."

"Yeah," Gillian agreed. Full of the biggest challenges, the biggest rewards; that they had ever experienced, not just in their lives together, but in their lives full stop. Cal didn't have to mention Mitchell or the IVF or Lewis. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She always knew what he was talking about.

Now that Gillian thought about it, she couldn't have done it without Cal either. More importantly, she _wouldn't_ have done it without him. She realised now she didn't want to have kids with Alec like she had with Cal. She didn't even want kids _with_ Alec, she had just wanted kids. She knew that she would never have survived a year like this with Alec. He would have destroyed them both. And she had never been grateful that her first marriage had fallen apart until now.

Cal's fingers felt smooth against her arm. They trailed slowly over her skin, caressing gently. They were both silent as they thought for a moment. Now Gillian was alert she realised the room wasn't entirely dark. Streetlight glowed through the curtains. The digital clock and timer on the DVD player gave more artificial lighting and she could see a white line under the door to the hotel corridor. It wasn't quiet either. Gillian could hear traffic on the street below, the loud cadence of her son sleeping across the room and the drip of the tap in the bathroom, which had driven her insane until she had fallen asleep.

"You know, I neva used to understand you."

"Huh?" Gillian asked startled and confused.

"Your optimism, how you were happy all the time."

'_Huh_,' Gillian continued to think. The curl of her fingers reflected what was in her mind.

"You know," Cal prompted as if he expected her to cotton on to the conversation quickly. "Afta Sophie and you bounced back. And Alec. Or when there was a tough case at work. You would always come back the next day, a smile on your face, your clothes impeccable, sometimes with a new hair cut, that excitement in your eyes that today was anotha day and I would always wonda how you could compartmentalise everythin' in its place."

"I didn't."

"No, I see that now," Cal continued. "It wasn't that you could switch it off. You felt everythin', all the time, I could see that, what I didn't see was your choice."

He went silent and Gillian felt like he had just doled out half the story and was now going to make her wait; like Dickens printing monthly instalments of his books, four chapters only at a time. Gillian waited a second for Cal to keep going and then gave his mind a nudge with her hand. "What choice?" What did he know about her that she didn't? And why was she being so slow? Normally, he could say just a few words and she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Someone told me recently that happiness was a choice."

Gillian listened to the way his accent curled around the words. They struck home like bullets into a Kevlar vest. Gillian's breath caught in her throat. "I haven't been very good at that this year," she admitted, wondering where the rest of Cal's point was going. Straight to her heart? She wasn't getting it, because she was half asleep, and because she had a sudden strange feeling Cal was telling her off about something she hadn't realised she had even done.

"It's been a very tough year," Cal's hand and tone soothed. "I've neva done it before." Another pause, like he was waiting for his words to sink in and once they had he fed out a few more. "I've neva made conscious decisions to be happy."

If Cal could see her, Gillian would have blinked dumbly for a second.

"I'm tryin' to make conscious decisions to be happy."

"Oh, you're talking about yourself."

"Who did you think I was talkin' about?"

"Me."

"You?"

"You just used me as an example."

"Yeah," Cal exclaimed quietly. "Because... you thought," he broke off in a laugh. Gillian shoved her hand against him and rolled away. Cal followed her. His lips found their way to her throat, up behind her ear. "I love you, you know that?"

Gillian wasn't sure she wanted to hear that right now. "Don't laugh at me, it's really late at night."

"Or early in the mornin'," Cal countered.

"Keep going and I'll make you sleep with Lewis," she was annoyed that he was exercising his quick mind over her. He did it so easily; Gillian had to work hard to keep up.

Cal chuckled again, nuzzled the tip of his nose against her neck, pulled her in tightly against his chest, refusing to let her get too far away from him. "I'm talkin' about myself you silly billy."

'_What the hell is a silly billy?'_

"I'm sayin' I used to admire your level of optimism, your happiness. I would watch you from a distance and just wonda how you did it. Someone reminded me recently happiness was a choice and I neva undastood that until I met you. I choose to be happy. I choose you. I love you and I admire you and I thank you for bein' in my life and lovin' me. Thank you for bein' you and for givin' me Lewis and bein' my wife; my partna in this life, my partna in crime. I choose you Gill. I want to be with you foreva."

Gillian's eyes sprung into tears. She turned her head towards Cal, wished the lights were on so she could see his face. Not so she could check to see if he was lying, she had no doubts, but so she could see the full impact of his words. His tone was sincere, touching, loving, soothing, caring, caressing; she knew his eyes would be full of that love and adoration she had come to crave. She sucked in a shaky breath that sounded more like a sob.

"Are you cryin'?" Cal asked gently, his breath whispering over her nose, his hand coming up to smooth over her cheek, wiping away the tear trailing an abstract path, guided by illogical gravity over her nose and into the crook of her nostril.

"You say those words to me, of course I'm going to cry," Gillian whispered, her throat tight with the emotion.

"You think they're not true?" Cal asked, not accused, just asked.

"You wouldn't lie to me," Gillian returned and held him tighter, her heart beating in that funny way that was Cal's signature.

"No," Cal agreed. "You wouldn't _lie to me_."

**PJ**

_I'm like you guys. I hate reading WIP because there's such a long and agonising wait between updates! Which is why I made sure I was fifty pages ahead of you (sometimes a hundred) and updated every night before I went to sleep. _

_It was so nice to have consistent reviewers. I had to laugh at your frustrations though, sorry, but it was amusing my end, knowing how it would all turn out and that everything would be ok, but seeing that you were all worried sick. The fact that you thought there might be a chance there wasn't going to be a happy ending helped me see that my writing had hit its targets; you were supposed to worry that Cal might not survive. It was all about the drama and suspense, but I am a Callian advocate, there was always going to be a happy ending! (Although I did fantasise about writing the agony Gillian would have experienced if Cal really had gone. I think it might have had me in tears and hating myself.)_

_This story was written very quickly (40 days), not just because I wanted it out there for you all to read immediately! But because when I touched on the dramatic scenes with Cal being abducted the words just poured out of me. As soon as I had created the mess I had to keep on writing until I had fixed it again and I knew everything would be all right for them. _

_So thank you everyone, again, for sharing the journey with me, thank you for reviewing and thank you more for those who consistently reviewed every chapter. Thanks for letting me know you were reading it. Much love and appreciation always! Read you later._


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